Even This Darkness Must Pass
by GuilelessAesthete
Summary: Part One of the Isilme Chronicles. A woman of Gondor has been banished, and she takes refuge in Rohan, serving the royal family. How long can she keep her past deeds a secret? Slightly AU, but goes with the movie plot. EomerxOC. Rated T, just to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

She stood in the middle of the room, looking at her feet. She had been summoned, but the Steward was late. She had arrived precisely when she had been told to, but had been greeted by an empty room. She was unsure what the nature was, exactly, of the summons, but still she came and here she stood. The white marble of the throne room of Minas Tirith glittered around her, but she still stared at her feet. They were nice feet, to be sure; they were small and dainty, as any woman's should be, but she was agile and sure upon them. Her black hair tumbled down her back in its sometimes untamable curls. She was slight, but not without strength. She had been raised in the walls of the Citadel, and had spent her lifetime at chores that strengthened her.

After what seemed like all of the ages of Man had passed, a door to the side of the room flew open with a loud crash. The woman looked up from her feet to watch as the Steward of the throne of Gondor strode across the room to his lowly seat. She didn't greet him, like she would have on any other circumstance. He looked angry, with knit brow and string of muttered curses in the language of Númenor to prove the point. He sat and looked at the woman for a moment before sighing.

"Braedia, daughter of Dwavia and Deonvan, you have been called forth to this trail with charges of disobedience and defiance of your superiors. How do you respond?" Denethor said with an exasperated sigh.

He looked expectantly at the woman, Braedia, before him. She blinked several times, but otherwise did not show the shock that was permeating her body. She heard the side door open again, but didn't dare look to see who had entered.

"I am unsure that I understand what exactly brought about these charges, my lord." She said, her voice soft.

"You know exactly what you did, wench. Do not think that I am unaware of what you have been doing as of late." Denethor cut across quickly, his tone venomous.

Braedia looked back at her feet, unwilling and unable to fight with the ruling authority of the city.

"Because you offer no word to the contrary of these accusation, I take it that you admit to your guilt." Denethor said after a moment of her silence.

He had taken up his pompous blustering that he was so fond of. Again, Braedia said nothing. It was better to be silent then give in to the rage she felt pulsing through her veins. That would only make her current situation worse.

"You are hereby banished from the kingdom of Gondor. You have until sundown to gather your things and leave. Be gone from my sight and never darken my halls again." Denethor said.

Braedia looked up suddenly, and her jaw dropped. One relatively minor infraction earned her a banishment? How was it possible? But she knew better than to linger once she had been dismissed, despite the fact that she heard a voice calling to her from within the hall.

She held onto her tears long enough to reach her living quarters. She let them silently slide down her face as she packed, for this was not the time to grieve. She found a ruck sack quick enough and packed away as many of her few possessions as she could. She changed out of her dress and into breeches and a tunic. She strapped her father's sword to her hip, the sheer weight of it strange to her, and a quiver and bow to her back, another heirloom from her father. She grabbed her sack and went to the servant's kitchen, packing a few things like a flint stone for fire, some salts and spices. She knew better than to grab any food, because it would draw animals in the Wilds faster than she could eat it.

As she checked that her bedroll was secure and mentally made sure that she had packed everything, a sound behind her startled her. She quickly turned and saw that the Steward's son, Faramir stood in the kitchen doorframe.

"So it is true? You are banished?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

"It is true, my friend. I am sorry to go. But your father has given me until sundown to leave the city, and it is a long walk down to the lower levels." Braedia replied, trying to keep her sorrow out of her voice.

"Boromir is fighting with Father now. Just wait; maybe there is something that can be done." Faramir said, almost pleading now. Braedia smiled sadly, but shook her head.

"You and I both know that, as long as I remain in the City, your father will never be at peace. He found us out, Faramir." She said softly, trying to comfort the young Captain.

"But it isn't fair." Faramir said, tears slipping from his eyes.

"It was never promised to be. I am truly sorry. I know how much I mean to you…and your brother. Tell him…you know what I want to say, don't you?" Braedia said, walking to the door, and Faramir.

The Captain nodded and pulled the young woman into a tight embrace. She was startled for a moment, but then returned it just as fiercely. They stood there for a moment, and Braedia couldn't help the few tears that escaped her eyes. They pulled apart, each wiping the traces of sadness from their visages.

"At least let me escort you to the Gate. I couldn't let you walk alone in good conscience, regardless of the circumstances." Faramir said quickly.

Again, Braedia shook her head. "You need to be with your brother. I have a feeling this isn't going to be easy for him." She said with a sad half-smile.

She clapped Faramir on the shoulder one more time, and bid him farewell. Before he could stop her, she left the Citadel, and began the long trek down to the main gate.

_By this time, the order for my banishment would have been circulated_, she reasoned, _so there should be little resistance to my wanting to leave._

Her reasoning was confirmed, for when she reached the Gate, they only slid the doors open and let her leave the White City. After a few hours walk over the plains of Pelennor, Braedia turned back and watched the sun set over Minas Tirith for her last time. But as the light grew fainter, she turned her back on the City of the Kings, and headed to face her fate in the Wilds.

As darkness grew in the lands of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, the Wilds became a place of hostility and death. Anyone rarely ventured out alone, let alone attempted to live there without proper dwellings. But that was how Braedia made her way. She lived along the edges of civilization, only coming into contact with Men when she was in dire need of supplies or shelter during the winter. For several years, Braedia was able to live in a cave in the mountains, and she thrived. She had been taught the skills of the blade and of the bow as she grew, along with her lessons in the pleasantry of the court.

While the first few months were difficult, Braedia became accustomed to the lack of warm food or soft beds quickly. She tried not to stay in one place for too long, especially when she knew that she still lay in the realm of Gondor. It took some time for her to understand animal habits, but soon she had the skill of a Ranger of the North, or so she liked to tell herself. She found it easy to remain unseen when she needed to, for not many men wandered around the Wilds. After less than one sun cycle, she found that her longings for luxuries like soap for her hair or wines diminished and the simple joys of a clear night and a warm fire were enough.

Eventually, she wound her way through the mountains and found herself living on the edges of the plains of Rohan. She knew the Horse-Lords for relatively kind people, but she still kept to herself, having grown unfriendly with all people. She found herself a simple cave to live in, and found that she was able to settle for a time. She spent several moon-cycles in the cave, and was perfectly content to make it her new home.

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><p>I slept near the back of my cave; my fire had died to barely embers long before. But then, I was awoken by a cry that was growing all too frequent these days: Orcs. I sprung to my feet, slipped my soft boots on quickly and gathered my things quickly. If they were that loud, then they were bound to be close. I moved quickly out of my cave and into the trees, keeping low to the ground. I almost heard the arrow before I saw it land with a solid thunk in the tree next to my head. They knew where I was, and were aiming at me. I stood up from the low vegetation and began to sprint through the trees.<p>

I wove in and out of the trees, on and off the faint deer path, hoping to throw them off of my tail. I ran as fast as I could, not taking the time to stop and look back. I could hear the Orcs behind me laughing and snarling, more than likely thinking that the Man-flesh was giving good sport. I was starting to lose stamina, so I began looking for trees to climb. Although the Orcs were strong, they were not nimble enough to come after me if I climbed high enough.

I found a good tree, and I scrambled to the top of it. I panted, looking down and waiting for the Orcs to pass me by. I was not that fortunate, however, because they had been close enough to see which tree I climbed. A small party, no more than ten, gathered around the base of the tree. I sighed; I could take on three or four Orcs single-handedly, but ten was too many. But I didn't dare loose an arrow into any of them, for fear that I would give away my position in the foliage.

I heard them arguing about whether to burn the tree or cut it down, and settled on cutting it down. My eyes widened in panic. I looked around to see if there were any trees I could jump to, but all of the trees were spaced to far from my tree for me to feel safe jumping into. I sighed and pulled out my bow, knowing I had to be quick. Once they knew where I was, it was a matter of time before they started firing on me. I loosed an arrow into one of those who were hacking at the bottom of the tree and he fell, dead. I quickly released another before the Orcs even pulled out their crossbows. I felled another and then moved to a different branch, quickly shooting another. Bolts from the crossbows rained up into the tree, some barely missing me.

I went to fire another arrow, but then suddenly, a spear impaled one of the archers, driving the creature into the tree. A small group of horsemen, three total, then came from the trees and quickly dispatched the others. They walked around the base of my tree, but I froze, not willing to come down.

"Do you think it's one of their own that they have pinned in the tree?" one of the men said in a deep voice.

He couldn't see me, which I could use to my advantage to study them a moment longer. They wore the garb of the Rohirrim, and rode large, healthy steeds. All carried at least a sword, but a few had either a bow, spear, or shield or a combination of those to accompany his primary weapon. I could not see their faces, due to both the darkness of the night and the position from which I looked at them.

"No, that is no Orc. These are not their arrows. Come down, by order of the _éroed_ of Théoden King." A second said, first to his companions and then up into the branches.

I considered not coming down, considered that I could take the three men and their beast from my position. I was a good shot, and I had plenty enough arrows. But then I saw the third reaching for his bow, and I knew that I would be dead before I had a chance to slay but one of the company.

"Withdraw your guard, and let me down." I called down, deepening my voice to the pitch of a man's.

Two of the men looked to the third, the first to speak, as if he were the leader. The leader looked up into the tree, as if trying to find me. Obviously failing, he sighed and nodded to his men. They withdrew a few yards from the tree, forming a line. I pulled my hood over my hair, taking care to hide my obvious Gondorian features, tucked my bow into its place, and began to descend the tree. I landed lightly on the ground, keeping my head bowed. I turned from the Men and gathered my arrows from the enemies I had slain.

"Stop, in the name of the king." The leader called.

I had finished my task and slid the arrows back into my quiver. The Men all reflexively reached for their weapons, but I held up my hands in a sign of peace.

"I only wished to gather my arrows. They are precious to me." I said, keeping my voice low.

"Do not try to exchange pleasantries with me, stranger. Who are you and what are you doing out in these lands?" the leader called roughly.

I was able to get a slightly better look at them now that I was on the ground, but the darkness still prevented me from really seeing their features clearly.

"My name is my own, as is my business. You never would have found me if it weren't for these creatures." I said smoothly, kicking one of the Orcs slightly with the toe of my boot.

"But as it stands, it is against the law for strangers to roam the Wilds of Rohan without consent from the King." The second said boldly.

"Is it now? Pity." I said, my face dancing with the ghost of a smile. The living thing had long since left me.

"_Should we take him to the king? He is trespassing._" The third said lowly to the leader, clearly speaking Rohiric.

Little did he know that I was versed in the language.

"_We will see what the Third Marshal wishes._" The leader replied in the same tongue.

The three turned back to me. "You are to come with us to our camp. Our leader will decide your fate." He said to me.

He started to walk his horse toward me, but I jumped back nimbly.

"I prefer to walk, thank you." I said holding up my hands in a motion for him to stop.

I walked over to he and his fellows and they surrounded me on three sides as we slowly made our way to their encampment.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, so I want to say a quick thank you to my reviewers of the first part. That was sort of like my pilot episode and it seemed to get a good response, so I will be continuing to post chapters (I would have continued to write it, because the story has just been in my head and it needs to come out). I'd like to thank Eva Sirico especially for pointing out some errors that I may not have ever noticed. And to answer her question, yes, but be patient young grasshopper; all in good time. I love getting feedback, so please make me a happy writer and review this with your thoughts. I'm not going to threaten you with lack of posts, because that's just mean. So I'll just ask nicely and mention that positive reinforcement keeps me writing. Just saying.**

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><p>I knew that it was their wish to just throw me bodily over their saddles and gallop away, but I wouldn't consent to that if I had another choice. They were amused enough to allow me to walk, so I didn't press my luck. All of the hot horse-flesh around me drew a thin sheen of sweat onto my skin. The great beasts were beautiful to watch from afar, but I wanted nothing more than to be away from them. The horses, I felt, could sense my mistrust in them, and often eyed me warily.<p>

Soon enough, we made our way to a gathering of tents on the edge of the trees. There were only a few dozen tents, housing maybe fifty or so men. My three guards led me through the encampment to a slightly larger tent in the middle. They dismounted quickly, and I made sure to hide my face. All of the men had now snuck out of whatever hiding places they had and were staring at me, whispering among themselves.

Even though they knew not that they looked up on a woman, I could feel a girlish blush creeping into my cheeks. I foolishly wondered about my ragged appearance, but chided myself quickly after. I was facing another trial with another noble, and I was wondering about the last time I tried to untangle my hair.

The three led me into the tent, and I had to start at the brightness of the enclosure. It had been many years since I had experience this much light during the black of night, and it almost hurt my eyes. A man, who had been previously been bent over a table stood up straight upon our entrance. He was tall, much taller than any man I had ever encountered in Gondor. He had hair the color of the sun and it shone healthy over his shoulders. He had flashing hazel eyes that looked at us with a mixture of anger and excitement.

"Why do you intrude? Surely your scouting isn't complete?" the man asked heatedly, his voice deep like the rolling of thunder.

"No, my lord Èomer. But we found this stranger in the wood. He had been run up a tree by a rabble of Orcs. The group has been destroyed, but we know that it is a violation of your uncle's law for strangers to wander without permission." The leader of the scouting party said quickly, stumbling over his words in the presence of this large man, Èomer.

The three stepped aside so I was fully revealed to their true leader. Èomer looked at me critically for a moment, as if trying to see under my hood. But my face was well shadowed. And yet I still held his gaze, even if he couldn't see it.

"Continue with your scout and I will deal with this one." Èomer said after a moment or two of this silence.

The three bowed shortly and quickly exited the tent, leaving Èomer and I alone, save a guard outside of the tent.

"To begin with, lower your hood." Èomer said sternly.

"I regret to inform you, my lord, but that can't be done." I said with the pitch of my voice lowered again.

"You speak with Èomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark, nephew to Théoden King. I shall say what can and can't be done." Èomer said, drawing himself up to his full height and expanding his chest.

I couldn't help but smirk at the strange resemblance to a turkey splaying his feathers for the females of the species.

"I understand perfectly who you are, my lord. But I wish to treat with you before you learn who I am." I said, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.

"I will not treat with strangers of whom I cannot look in the eye. If you are no coward, man, then lower your hood." Èomer said, his anger flashing in the depths of his eyes.

I chuckled slightly, but sighed all the same. There was no way for me to remain hidden and get out of this alive, so I conceded.

"I am no coward, but I also am not a man, my lord." I said as I lowered my hood.

My voice returned to its normal female pitch and I graced my features were smooth and calm. Èomer clearly started when my voice turned to that of a woman and stood in shock as he saw me. I realized that I was no longer a polished lady of the court, years in the Wilds had erased that images away, but I was no stranger to what I looked like (I was able to see my reflection of a pool of water from time to time). I knew that my black hair had become a tangle behind my head, despite my regular attempts to tame it. My face must have been dirty, because it always was. With no hot water to wash away the grime, a semi-permanent layer had formed over most of my skin. But I knew that my eyes still shone clear. They were grey, like most of my people's were, but they contained the slightest hint at green. It was the last remnant of Rohiric blood left in me.

"My lady, please forgive my coarseness with you." Èomer said, bowing slightly.

"Please, my lord, I neither want nor deserve any title. I am no noble." I said, brushing his attempt at courtesy away.

"Indeed. From where do you hail?" Èomer said, now slightly suspicious.

I had a slightly Gondorian accent to my words. I could tell that he could hear it, now that I wasn't disguising my voice. "I was born in The White City to parents that are inconsequential to one of standing. My family served the Steward's household." I said softly.

"I thought as much. But if you served the Steward, why do you look like something feral?" Èomer questioned, now confused.

"I disobeyed the Steward, and for that I was banished." I said tensely.

I spoke slowly, picking every word with great care. I didn't want to lie to him, because lies only caused trouble. But I didn't want to reveal the whole truth just yet.

"So you fled to the Wilds?" Èomer said, his statement more of a question.

"Yes, my lord. For how long, I cannot quite recall. One loses sense of exact time when living in the trees." I said, sobering up a little.

Èomer nodded, and we fell into a moment of silent. I kept my gaze cast in his direction, though he did not look directly at me.

"What exactly is it that you did in the Steward's household?" he asked after a moment.

"My mother was the nurse for his sons when they were young, and then became their maid when they grew old enough to care for themselves. I was raised to be a maid as well, my lord." I answered quickly.

Èomer nodded thoughtfully and turned away from me. I still studied his movements, admiring his easy gait despite the heavy armor he wore.

"My scouts were correct when they said that it is unlawful for strangers to roam the land without permission of the king. My company rides to Edoras on the morrow. You will be presented before the king, and perhaps you may yet be of service. My sister, the king's niece, is looking for a lady-in-waiting." Èomer said, turning back to me.

My eyes widened, but I controlled my shock easily enough and fell back into my serene calm.

"How far to Edoras, my lord?" I questioned curiously.

"A day and a half gallop. The horses will be well rested by dawn, and should be able to make the journey. Do you have a horse of your own?" Èomer asked.

I shook my head slightly. "The servants of the Steward had no need for steeds of their own." I said, this time making a quick white lie. It was better than the truth.

"Then you will have to be borne by one of my company. I will find you an escort before we leave tomorrow." Èomer said.

"My lord, is there need for haste or escort? I would be happy enough to walk the distance to the capital." I said, trying to sound as if I didn't want to burden his company.

"I will not hear of this. It would be a journey of at least seven days, and it would be shameful for me not to escort you. I can understand if you feel you can protect yourself; your sword and bow confirm it as does your mere presence before me. You will ride with us. I shall have one of my men find some place for you to sleep and make yourself presentable. Goodnight, my lady." Èomer said, his voice full of finality.

I sighed, but I knew that I had been beaten and resigned to it. He called in a man, who began to escort me from the tent. Èomer turned back to his map quickly, picking up seamlessly from where he left off. I almost exited the tent, but I turned back to him.

"Braedia, my lord." I said, a little louder than I had spoken previously.

He looked up at me, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"My name is Braedia. I would rather you call me by my name then continue on with the pretense I don't deserve." I said with a very small smile.

He nodded and then I left with my guard. He walked me through the tents until he came to one on the edge, near the place where the horses resided.

"This tent belonged to one of the fallen. It should serve its purpose." The guard said, very clearly not trusting me.

"Thank you, my lord. I shall have it packed away before we are to depart." I said, inclining my head slightly as a sign of respect.

He nodded and walked away quickly. I sighed and shook my head, faintly amused. I went into the tent, and found that someone had set up a cot, and fetched me a pitcher of water. I smiled at the faint kindness. It seemed that these men were bereft of womanly presences for quite some time.

I took off my pack and quiver, setting them gingerly on the ground. I unrolled my bedroll onto the cot, and laid my cloak over it. Then I set about the business of trying to untangle my hair. I used to use oils that made my hair form perfect spiraled ringlets and gave it an illustrious shine, and I always brushed my hair for extended periods of time to keep it healthy. But those days were long passed. I used the water to try to untangle some of the knots from my hair, but it was slow going and I was quickly out of the water.

I sighed, and then I remembered that there was a small river not so far from this encampment; it was most likely where this water had come from. I exited the tent, and looked around. Many of the men were sitting around fires, eating and laughing with their fellows. Some of them noticed me and whispered while they stared. I gave them my ghost-smile, but headed back to Lord Éomer's tent.

I heard voice from within, so I waited. Soon enough, the scouting party that had brought me here exited the tent. They spotted me and I saw their eyes widen.

"Good evening, my lords. Perhaps I may set my inquiry to you, rather than before Lord Èomer." I said, stepping toward them.

"Of course, my lady." The scout leader stammered.

"Is there any possibility of procuring permission to bathe in the river nearby? I was told to make myself presentable so I may go before the king on the morrow, but I ran out of water." I said, using the skills that I thought I had long forgotten. Thankfully, they were still sharp as ever.

"Of course, my lady. We shall escort you there." The second said, jumping when the leader did not.

"Thank you, my lords. May I have a moment to fetch my clothes?" I questioned.

They all nodded eagerly, but did not follow as I hurried back to my tent and gathered my extra set of clothes. They were in considerably better condition than the ones I wore regularly. The set consisted of a tunic that was colored back, with a pale blue linen undershirt. The black tunic had silver embellishments along the collar and cuffs of the sleeves. The breeches I had were also black, with black hosen under them. There were clothes that I had managed to procure from a Gondorian village long ago. I rarely wore them, which kept them in clean and relatively untarnished condition. They were too ornate to be worn all the time, but this was an occasion needing of special clothes. I came back to my guards, to find they hadn't moved an inch from where I left them. They all held their arms out for a proper escort, but I declined.

"I am no great lady. If I were, I would have been shut up in some king's court long ago." I said with a slightly ironic chuckle.

The guards laughed heartily, as if I had told the best joke they had ever heard. I sighed, but we went out to the river.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I know that I haven't put this at the beginning of any of my chapters yet, but I'm putting my disclaimer on my profile. Also, in case you haven't noticed, I usually don't do recaps for my stories. I get a little complex with my plotlines sometimes, and I'm really bad at summing things up briefly. Additionally, feel free to ask questions in the reviews. I love getting feedback (it keeps me writing). Thanks to everyone who has favorited and put this story on their alert list. I adore getting those emails. They warm the cockles of my heart. Lastly, a shout out to my best friend, T.K. (even though I know she'll never read this). She has become my unofficial horse encyclopedia. So if I mess up the horse lingo, it's not me, it's her. Now on with the story!**

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><p>The journey was quick and silent, I outpacing them for most of it. These men seemed to be unaccustomed to walking off of their mighty horses, which was mildly amusing. A short distance from the river, I left the company of my guards and went to the river to bathe.<p>

I removed the tunic and breeches that I was wearing and unwrapped my chest from its bindings. I usually bound my breasts to avoid unnecessary strain. It also helped to convince men that I was not of my gender. After I was naked, I slipped into the cool river with a sigh. Spring was starting to fade away, and the heat of plains was growing. It felt nice to slip into the river by the light of the moon.

I was able to scrub most of the grime away from my face and skin, my slightly tanned skin still as smooth as ever. It took some time, but I was even able to work almost all of the knots out of my hair and rinse it of almost all of the dirt. I sat in the river, enjoying the feeling of the slow current rushing around my body. I heard a noise from the tree line and turned quickly to it with a gasp. It was one of the guards, coming forward with a hand over his eyes.

"We realized that you have no way to dry yourself, my lady. A towel for you." He said loudly.

He set down what looked like one of their cloaks on the rocky bank of the river and backed away quickly. I half-smiled at his attempts at protecting my female modesty, although they were quite unnecessary. The rays of the moon created a mirror smooth shine on the water, obscuring all parts of my body that lay under its surface.

I realized that the hour was growing quite late, and that I had to get some sleep before riding to Edoras tomorrow. I couldn't help but to shudder at the thought. Regardless, I came out of the river to find the cloak on the bank was adequate enough to take most of the water off of my body and out of my hair.

I wrapped my chest again and dressed in the clean clothes. I always liked these clothes, but I knew that I couldn't wear them as often as I liked. It almost made me miss the days of velvet dresses, even though they were plain in comparison to the dresses of the women of the court. But shaking off the memories, I gathered my other clothes in my arms and found that my guards were sitting some ways from the river.

Upon my arrival to their clearing of sorts, they stood and quickly escorted me back to the camp. When I entered this time, there were more whispers, but I felt no blush creep into my cheeks. I was not embarrassed of how I looked now. I knew that I was wearing men's clothing, and that I was a woman, but I felt like another person, one whom bathed regularly and had once been blessed enough to be invited to the court of the Steward.

I parted from my guards and went back to my tent. I sat on my cot for a while, running my fingers absently through my hair. It had grown much since I left Minas Tirith, yet the curls were still as wild as ever. I let myself indulge in a few fond memories before laying myself down to get as much sleep as I could before I had to be presented before the king.

I fell into an uneasy sleep, haunted by the faces that I once held very dear to my heart. I awoke suddenly, and I felt a layer of cold sweat covering my body. My dreams, I knew, were not going to follow me to my waking hours, but it still took me a moment to calm my heart. My tent was still dark, but I knew that I wasn't going to be able to sleep any more this night. I sat up and looked around my tent. I saw that my pitcher had been refilled during my sleep, so I splashed my face with the cool water and drank a few mouthfuls before exiting my tent.

I saw that the edges of the sky were just beginning to lighten with the anticipation of the sunrise. I went back into my tent and repacked all of my things. I buckled my sword and quiver on again, and set about the task of taking down and packing away my tent. I was unfamiliar with the design, but I was the only one awake, and therefore was forced to work out the intricacies on my own. I was able to figure it out as a few men began to awake and I was fully packed by the time half of the camp was awake.

I spotted a large boulder that faced east and I sat on it crossed legged as the sun rose over the horizon. I closed my eyes and breathed in the smell of the plains grass that the breeze brought to my nose. This was nothing like Minas Tirith. And yet, I could still see its shining White Tower and its beautiful prow that extended triumphantly from the mountainside in my mind's eye as if I were standing less than league from her stone walls. I sighed in contentment, as I remembered what the White City also held for me.

"It is a beautiful sunrise." I heard a familiar voice say from beside me.

I opened my eyes calmly and looked up. Èomer was standing beside the rock I sat upon, looking east as well. I looked back to the place where the sun was rising. I had been shaken from my memories violently. I sighed again.

"Indeed it is, my lord." I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

I could hear the men scurrying around the camp behind us, packing away their things.

"We will be leaving shortly. I have found a horseman willing to bear you." Èomer said, his voice a little tense.

"Is he a good horseman?" I asked before my restraint could keep hold on me.

I could hear the hesitance in my own voice, and Èomer chuckled.

"One of the best, some say." He said, still laughing lightly.

"He is going to have to be, to account for my true lack of skill on horseback." I grumbled a little moodily.

Èomer laughed again. "Have you ever been on a horse?" he asked, still laughing.

"When I was younger, I used to ride in front of my father, but that was long ago." I said my tone and face darkening with the memories.

If Èomer noticed the change, he said nothing.

"We must be off soon. Come back to camp." He said after another moment.

I stood gracefully and followed him back to where the men were starting to mount their horses. Èomer led me to one of the few rider-less horses, a grey steed that seemed to realize his master's presence. Èomer mounted the horse, and then extended his hand down to me.

"You are my rider?" I asked, almost not believing it.

"If you are as bad as you seem to make yourself out to be, then you need one with great experience in the saddle. I had the most experience out of all of my men. It only makes sense." Èomer said, a smirk dancing on his features.

"Will your horse be able to bear me?" I asked, looking at the war-horse again.

"He has borne men twice your weight, as well as myself. Now come, the day drags on." He said, his voice both amused and impatient.

I hesitantly extended my small hand into his larger one, and he pulled me into the saddle in front of him with very little effort. I barely managed to get my leg over the grey horse, so I could sit astride him. Èomer wrapped his strong arms around me and moved the horse expertly.

"See there? He barely notices your weight." Èomer teased gently into my ear.

I felt a flush creep into my cheeks, but the reaction was quickly replaced with fear as Èomer moved the horse at quite a fast speed. He rode at the head of the column, his men falling into rank behind him. The men and horses seemed eager to be home. I kept my eyes closed for the first few minutes of the ride, tensing every muscle I had in order to remain on the horse's back. Èomer must have noticed that I was tense, because his arm tightened around me.

"Do not panic. Hold onto my arm." He said into my ear.

I nodded and let out an involuntary yelp as I felt him lifting me from the horse, over the horn, and into the saddle. He himself had moved back to ride on the leather of the back of the saddle, still holding the reins and me. And, all the while, we had never slowed our pace. I turned to look at him, and I saw that there was an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"I am glad that you find amusement in my terror, my lord." I said, my tone a little more biting than I had intended.

"It is quite amusing. Having grown up around women who find the seat of saddle as natural as the seat of a chair, you are quite interesting to me." Èomer said with a little laugh.

I half glared at him, and he laughed heartily at my attempts.

"You are more frightened of them then they are of you. Firefoot is as brave a war-horse as any warrior could ask for, but he is as gentle and steady off the battlefield." Èomer said, his voice swelling with pride over his horse.

"I would rather walk. There is something unsettling about horses." I said, shaking my head.

"If you are going to remain in Rohan, then you must grow accustomed to them, at the very least. This is the Home of the Horselords, after all." Èomer said, still amused with me.

"I seek only the King's permission, my lord, then I return to the Wilds." I said, trying to infuse some of the finality he had used the previous night into my voice.

"For what reason? You have been offered a place at Medesuld, the Golden Hall of Edoras. Surely you do not think that your proper place is in the Wilds." Èomer said, clearly bewildered with my decision.

"It may not be my proper place, but it is where I choose to reside." I said, my voice and mind growing distant.

"A lady of the court of the Steward cannot enjoy scraping a living off the rocks." Èomer said with a scoff.

"I may not enjoy it, but that is not my reasoning for returning." I said, getting frustrated.

"These lands are dangerous, and one must stay where it is safe." Èomer said growing more serious.

"I can defend myself easily enough. It's not for naught that I carry a sword at my side or a bow on my back." I said, feeling slightly defensive now.

"That sword looks to weigh nearly as much as you. Surely you cannot wield it effectively." Èomer scoffed again.

They took a slight turn to the west, and I gripped Èomer's arm tightly as he completed the move. He laughed again.

"Timid as I may be around horses, I survived well enough on my own before your men found me. Had it not been for the Orcs, you might not have been alerted to my position. And I look forward to the day that I might, my Èomer lord, teach you how well I wield my father's sword." I said, an angry bite to my words.

However, instead of Èomer backing down, he laughed heartily again. "I, too, look forward to that day, Braedia. I look forward to it most eagerly." He said amused and still laughing slightly.

I chose not to answer him, but looked out over the horse's head. The plains were rolling hills of long grasses. Despite the soreness I was now feeling in my legs, I almost felt peaceful on horseback. I could understand why the Rohirrim loved being on horseback so much.


	4. Chapter 4

The journey lasted for the rest of the day, and into the night. Èomer told me that they were only stopping for a moment or two along the banks of the river to give the horses a chance to breathe and drink, but then they were going to continue through the night. He held to his promise and we did stop. I felt more than slightly sore when Èomer helped me dismount, and the short respite was not enough for my muscles to recover from the strain.

All too soon, I was back in the saddle with Èomer, riding toward the capital. As dusk fell, he encouraged me to try to sleep, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to. Excluding the fear of fall off the horse, my mind was far too busy to find any rest. I did indulge Èomer at one point in the night, resting my head back against his chest and letting my face fall smooth with peace. I wasn't sure, but I could have sworn that he muttered something in Rohiric, but it was far too low for me to understand or translate.

Despite my feelings that I wouldn't be able to sleep in the saddle, I found myself being shaken awake after sunrise several hours later. The plains looked the same, but the mountains that I had seen in the distance were closer now, and I could almost make out a lone hill on the horizon.

"I'm glad to see you awake, Braedia. You sleep like the dead." Èomer teased gently when he noticed I was awake.

I half glared at him again, but he just laughed. This man was entirely too frustrating.

"You can almost make out Edoras on the horizon now. We should be there in less than two hours." Èomer said, excitement tinting his voice.

"How long has it been since you were there?" I asked curiously.

"A fortnight, but my heart still soars when I see it, regardless of how long my absence." Èomer said, his voice swelling with happiness.

He smiled, and I couldn't help but to give him my ghost of a smile. I couldn't bring myself to give him more than that. We rode in silence for a time, and slowly but surely, the hill rose out of the ground and toward above us. It was nothing to the size of Minas Tirith, but the golden thatched roof of the Great Hall was enough to make me feel a sense of awe. The company rode up the hill to the square before the Golden Hall, and all of the riders dismounted.

Èomer helped me off the horse, and I felt my muscles groan in response. As Èomer released me to stand, my legs gave out slightly from under me, and without thinking, I reached for the nearest thing to me for strength. That just happened to be Firefoot's flank. The horse was startled by the movement, but Èomer calmed him before it was really a problem. He held me by my elbow as I stretched my legs, all the while laughing about how I wasn't used to the strains of riding.

After my muscles felt less sore, Èomer led me up the wide stairs to Medesuld, the Golden Hall of Edoras. The building, which hadn't looked spectacular from a distance, grew to be more ornate as I drew closer. The pillars were thick, and intricately carved with designs. It was a truly beautiful sight. Èomer led me into the hall and I was awe-struck by the inside as well. The floor was beautiful and the walls were covered in tapestries, depicting the myths and legends of the Rohirrim. In the center of the room, there was a large fireplace with an empty spit over it, which was probably used for feasts. Everything in the room was warm and felt inviting, unlike the marble walls of the throne room of the White Tower.

I looked to the far end of the room, and a man sat in an ornately carved wooden throne. He wore no mantle, but I knew he was the king. His air exuded authority, and he seemed at ease on his perch. He was so unlike Denethor in many ways. While Denethor wore the chainmail dress of a warrior, he had never seen the horrors of battle. This man, Théoden, had clearly seen and conquered many foes in the glorious field. Denethor sat on his throne, giving pompous orders, where Théoden descended from his throne and strode across the room, jovially greeting his nephew.

"Èomer, my lad, I am glad to see you. Théodred arrived only yesterday. It will be splendid to have all of my family seated for dinner tonight." He said, not taking notice of me.

Théoden looked aged, but he had done so gracefully. There was a touch of grey to his golden hair and beard, but his slightly wrinkled face still shone with life. Èomer accepted the king's embrace, but looked back to me. Théoden noticed me then, and I quickly swept into a gracefully curtsey.

"Who is this, Èomer?" Théoden asked pleasantly.

"My _éored_ found her in the Wilds. Orcs attacked her in the middle of the night. She does not have your leave to roam." Èomer said, sounding a little disappointed.

"I see. No, she does not." Théoden said, suddenly serious.

If I hadn't just seen his friendly greeting, then I would have feared for my safety.

"Come, we will discuss this." Théoden said, motioning to the end of the hall.

He led Èomer and myself to the throne, where he sat. I kept my head bowed and my body relaxed, taking care to keep my hands away from my weapons.

"So how is it that you have come to Rohan, child?" Théoden asked, getting right to the business at hand.

"Théoden King, I first ask pardon for my infringement. As to how I came to Rohan, it is a long story. The facts remain: I used to reside in the White City of Gondor, Minas Tirith. I was a maid in the Steward's household, but I was banished. I wandered, coming to reside in the Wilds. Lord Èomer and his company found me in a difficult position-"

"The Orcs had run her up a tree and were to chop it down to get her out. A few of my scouts found and slayed the Orcs." Èomer said, cutting across my sentence.

I paused for a moment, reminding myself that we were no longer on horseback, where naught but the wind could hear our jests, but before a king that would determine my fate.

"Indeed, that was the case. They informed me that I was infringing upon Rohan's law, so they brought me before you, my lord." I said.

I kept my voice low and humble, and averted my gaze from the king.

"How was it that you came to banished?" Théoden asked.

"I disobeyed an order from the Steward. To most, my infringement would be minor, but he still banished me." I said, my voice sad at the memory.

"What was the infringement?" Théoden asked.

"I cut roses from the garden for the table. The roses had been a special favorite of the Steward's late wife. I was in a rush, and I had forgotten the decree that no man was to pick those flowers under any circumstances. For my mistake, I was ordered to leave the White Tower." I said, tasting the lie bitter in my mouth. I didn't want to lie to the king, but it was better that he think this than what I actually was banished for.

"Banished for cutting flowers?" Èomer questioned suspiciously.

I couldn't look at him, for I knew that he was see the lie in my eyes if I did.

"To Denethor, that is a serious offence. For us, it would be like wearing your aunt's jewels without permission." Théoden said with sympathy in his voice.

I still didn't chance a glance at him, but I could feel his gaze on me.

"What was it that you did in the White Tower?" Théoden asked casually.

"My mother was the nursemaid to the Steward's sons as they grew, but then became a maid once they were old enough. I was raised to be a maid to the household." I said softly.

"_Is Èowyn still looking for a lady-in-waiting? This woman is verse in the ways of royal families, and seems trustworthy enough._" Èomer asked of his king in Rohiric.

I pretended not to understand what he said, despite my knowledge. I could still feel Théoden's gaze on me.

"Look at me, child." He said after a moment.

I raised my eyes to meet Théoden's gaze, and I felt him see something in them. I was never quite sure why, but my wide green-grey eyes always stunned people upon inspection.

"If she can survive the Wilds, I'm sure she could survive your sister." Théoden said at last.

I gave a half smile and a nod of gratitude toward the king. The lady was summoned to the room, and I knew why they teased her so. She walked tall, with long golden hair that fell in waves down her back. She wore a dress of gleaming white and gold. She looked as regal as any noble I had ever met. I curtsied as she approached and Théoden stood to take his niece by the shoulders.

"Èowyn, this woman has been brought home by your brother." Théoden said, speaking heartily.

"Surely not to marry. He's barely begun manhood." The lady teased her brother.

He scoffed and I couldn't help but smirk.

"No, of course not. This woman…what's your name child?" Théoden asked, trailing off but then picking up his own sentence.

"Braedia, my lord." I said, my voice soft again.

"Of course. Braedia has been brought to us to be your new lady-in-waiting. She served the Steward of Gondor's household, so she should be up to the task of waiting on you." Théoden said.

I heard Èowyn approach and I half glanced up. I was almost level with her, if only a hair or so shorter, due to my Gondorian heritage.

"She'll do. Get her cleaned up. She stinks of horse." Èowyn said, and then walked away quickly.

I looked up to her retreating figure, almost shocked by her treatment of me. But I knew better than to say anything about it. Théoden and Èomer laughed at her, but I was not amused.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm super excited at the response I've been getting for this story. I'm going to take a moment to respond to some reviews. If you want me to answer any questions, or provide any helpful advice, feel free to review.**

**julieAKAweirdo: I do not remember reading the books, because it's been a little bit since I've read them. But I have to start somewhere with my characters. And, in case it hasn't been obvious, almost all of my characters start off as snobs. It helps me to tear away layers to make them human. Just give it time, grasshopper. I think you'll come to like my Èowyn.**

**WillowDamon17: You are part of the reason that I love this format for publishing. It is direct feedback, and it's wonderful. Without you, I would have continued to misspell Èowyn (In fact, I did; I replaced it in my Word document, 136 times total). So thank you for that. And as to your review on Chapter 3, her stubbornness is only going to get worse. **

**So there you have it: some review commentary. Once again, I appreciate your feedback and I hope to hear more of it. Also, if you like Harry Potter fanfiction (specifically Sirius Black fanfiction), I write another series called my Songbird series. Feel free to stop over and take a look at it, see if you're interested. "To Kill A Songbird" is the first part, so start there if you're going to. So now that my shameless plug is out of the way, on with the story!**

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><p>Théoden called another maid to take me to my new quarters and get me cleaned up.<p>

"Welcome to Edoras, Braedia. I'm Laraelia, but just call me Lara. It's easy to say in a hurry." The older woman, Lara, laughed at her own joke as we walked down a side corridor.

She seemed happy enough, which was comforting.

"Maid of Minas Tirith? That's no small feat, be sure of that." She said after I told her of whence I came.

Her language a little lacking the standard I was used to. She opened a door to a small room. She lit a candle, and I glanced around. The room contained a bed with a straw mattress, a bowl and pitcher of water, a chamber pot, and chest of drawers on which all of these sat. The room contained very little else, and I reasoned this to be because this room was meant for sleeping only, and a place to spend leisure time.

Lara then took me to the place where water could be fetched, and bid me to follow her to the bath house. There was a copper tub and a fireplace, with a few chair. It was a simple room, so I assumed that it was for the servants. Lara helped me draw my bath, a task I would be expected to complete on my own from now on, and stayed with me while the water was heated.

After it was warm, I was bid to bathe using the soaps that were provided. Lara left while I bathed, going to fetch me a dress to befit my new station. I slipped into the hot water and I felt all of my tense muscles relax. I wanted to stay in the hot water all day, letting it work out the soreness from riding, but I knew that I had duties to complete. I washed my hair with the magnificent soaps, finally feeling it grow soft under their care. I washed all the remaining grime from my body with additional soaps. I felt like I scrubbed until my skin would tear off, but it was worth the effort to reclaim my soft skin that I know others adored.

I finished my bath and wrapped myself in a towel. I sat by the fire, running my fingers through my hair and letting my mind wander back to my other life. My hair dried, turning to beautiful and perfect ringlets in my hands. It wasn't long before Lara returned with a beautiful gown the color of dark peat moss. The underdress was a cream color, and it flowed beautifully around me. I had no trouble with tunics and breeches, but I loved the feeling of linen dresses against my skin.

I quickly pulled some of my hair back and away from my face and followed Lara to Lady Èowyn's chambers. We found her sitting by the fire, as if waiting. She heard our entrance and we both curtsied. She stood and looked me over. She dismissed Lara and closed the door behind her.

"Come here." Èowyn called softly.

I kept my eyes to the floor respectfully and did what I was asked.

"Stop looking at the floor." She commanded.

I looked up into her eyes, and she gasped a little.

"I don't need a lady-in-waiting, regardless of what my brother and uncle think. I can do most things by myself." Èowyn said strongly.

"I believe you, my lady. Few women I know how your aura of strength." I said honestly.

Èowyn seemed to swell a little in pride but otherwise left the comment where it lay. "The chambermaids bring my meals, when I do not dine with my uncle. I only really need help dressing and attending to the people when the occasion arises." She went on.

"Those are the two most difficult duties that a woman of the court has, my lady. I will be glad to help however I can." I said softly and smoothly.

"You speak well, for a servant." She remarked, walking to a grand wardrobe on the wall. She started looking through the gowns that hung inside.

"The servants of the White Tower were held to a slightly higher standard than most. The red one would look lovely on you, my lady." I said, adding the second sentence on to my thought as her hand fell on a dress of a deep red velvet.

"Indeed." She said softly, pulling it from the wardrobe.

I helped Èowyn dress and spent some time with her sitting, my hands creating intricate designs in her long hair. When I was finished, she looked in her mirror and smiled.

"You are quite skilled." She said happily.

I nodded my head slightly in thanks.

"Come. We go to dinner." She said, moving swiftly from the room.

I followed behind her, watching as her dress flowed like a river around her legs. We came to the Great Hall, where a table was laid out. Théoden, Èomer, and another man sat at the table. They stood when Èowyn swept into the room, smiling at the woman. I stood behind a little, taking to the shadows behind Èowyn rather than calling attention to myself. I did, however, catch Èomer's amazed stare for a moment before he realized he had been found out and then returned to his family.

"Braedia, where are you? Come meet my family." Èowyn called, looking around her.

I swept forward quickly, stepping to her side. She relaxed a little and introduced me to Théodred, King Théoden's son. He looked to be not much older than myself, Èowyn or Èomer, which I found comforting. I started to excuse myself when other servants began to bring out their food, but Èowyn would not have it. She forced me to sit by her side and dine with her family, the royal family of Rohan. It almost bewildered me to be sitting there, when I thought that only two days prior, I had been eating venison meat off the bone in my cave. But this meal was pleasant and friendly, and I felt that I would enjoy their company greatly.

The first few weeks of my service to Lady Èowyn were challenging, to say the least. She tested my strengths and weaknesses in ways I never thought were possible. She took me with her when her uncle bid her to settle a dispute among the citizen of Edoras. She often turned to me with advice about decisions before she made them, which felt strange to me. I was only her hand maiden, not her counsel. But she trusted my advice, and respected me more when she found that I was experienced with a blade. We would often sneak away from the busy hall and spar in men's clothing in secret. I grew very fond of Èowyn as summer passed into autumn and then autumn into winter.

The snows of the season caused us to be shut inside of Medesuld for many days at a time, which I would have minded, except the company was very pleasant. Èomer and Théodred would often sit and converse with Èowyn, and myself by extension, for many hours while the storms raged outside. My chambers were moved when the year began anew because I would often spend more time running between the rooms than I ever did in my own. I was moved closer to Èowyn's room, and it worked out for the best.

As spring began again, Èowyn became restless and wanted to ride, but I always found a reason to remain behind when she bid me to ride with her. In truth, I was growing more used to the presence of the horses, but they still made me nervous, and I was loath to ride one on my own still. But I still learned how to take care of her horse, because she never trusted the stable hands to take care of the steed correctly. For the first couple of weeks, I had to ask the help of the stable hands, but I was a quick learner and was quickly taking care of the mare on my own.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry this one is a little shorter than usual. I try to make them at least 2,000 words each, but I couldn't do it this time. However, if you are made at me, feel free to express your anger in an review...just kidding. But seriously, review please. I want to hear what you guys think.**

**And just to show that I actually do listen, one of my readers reviewed that I made a typo, so I fixed it. See? I listen. I care. Now please review :)  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** **So there haven't been many reviews for me to respond to here. I did have to go back and fix a small error that I made in the last chapter, but I PM'ed that person. **

**But I might as well get this out of the way. I had to consult my Lord of the Rings reference books (what, don't you have some?) to make sure I was doing this right, but I've decided that I'm going to put in a pronunciation guide to any characters that I mention more than once. The big one is Braedia, (br-EYE-dee-uh), but there are going to be more once I get further in. **

**I start bringing up the different languages, so I'm going to include translations at the end of each chapter that I use them. None in this chapter, but this is just a fair warning. Also, if I bring up any obscure things, like people that aren't in the movies but are talking about in the book, I'll give a brief description at the end of each chapter I do this (this isn't going to be a big deal until toward the end of the story, but I might as well warn you now). But this Author Note has gone on long enough.**

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><p>One fine spring morning, when the air was sweet and warm to taste, I was out in the stables, rubbing down Èowyn's horse. She had just returned from her morning ride, and was bathing to prepare for the early supper her uncle had called. I was invited, as well, but I had more time than she did, because I only had to rinse and change.<p>

As I stood in the stall, I spoke in soft Rohiric to the horse, which kept her calm. She must have assumed that, because I spoke the tongue of her mistress that I was to be trusted. I had yet to reveal to even Èowyn, who was by now a close friend, that I spoke the language of her people. It seemed a secret better kept safe.

"Is that you, Èowyn? I thought you would have gone in by now." I heard a now very familiar voice call through the stables.

I felt my body freeze; the mare felt my tension and stamped a little anxiously. I quickly relaxed and the horse felt at ease again. The heavy footfalls approached and Èomer appeared at the gate of the stall.

"Braedia? Was that you speaking just now? I could have sworn that I heard someone speaking Rohiric here." Èomer asked, confused.

I sighed, stopping my progress in grooming Èowyn's horse. I had made a promise to myself shortly after my arrival that, when asked a direct question, I wouldn't lie to the royal family. It felt so terrible to lie to them the first night, and I was determined not to do it again.

"Yes, my lord. I was the one speaking." I said, my voice heavy.

"But that was Rohiric." Èomer said, clearly stunned.

"I speak a little Rohiric and understand even more. My mother's great-grandfather was of the Riddermark. He taught my great-grandfather to speak the language, and he taught his son, and he taught my mother, who taught me. I also speak a little Elvish, for it is the language of the ancient Gondorian people. But I barely understand a word of that language." I said, brushing the horse some more.

"Have you cleaned her hooves yet?" Èomer asked, opening the door to the stall.

I shook my head. "I never get near her hooves, unless I have to." I said, my voice a little nervous.

Èomer laughed and pet the mare on the nose.

"Why did you not mention this before? That you are distantly of Rohan?" Èomer questioned after requesting the hoof pick.

I fetched it for him, and our skin touched as I passed it to him.

"It did not seem important." I said softly.

I pulled my hand away, but I kept eye contact with Èomer. I felt a strange tugging at my heart, and I looked away. I was still in love with another. I could not allow myself to fall for another noble. Èomer braced his weight against the mare's flank and lifted her hoof easily. He cleaned it with precision, and the horse barely took notice of his efforts. In short order, the hooves were clean and Èomer straightened up again. He was on the other side of the mare now, and was looking at me curiously over her back.

"Has your riding improved any since we last shared a mount?" Èomer asked, a little playfully.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Indeed, it hasn't. This is as close as you will find me to a horse." I said, a little laughter in my voice.

Èomer paused and looked at me again. "I could teach you to ride, if you wish. It seems like a skill that you could use. My sister always complains that you never go riding with her." Èomer said, his tone still light.

I had begun to pack away the grooming supplies, but I straightened up and looked at Èomer sharply.

"Would that be proper?" I asked.

"I do not see why it wouldn't be. I am the Third Marshal of the Riddermark, after all. It almost seems to be my duty." Èomer said, smirking at me.

I couldn't help but to smirk back. His eyes always danced when he smirked or smiled and his joy was contagious.

"Consider it for a while. I would like to know by tonight, so I may have a horse ready for our lessons to begin tomorrow, if that be what you wish." Èomer said, walking around the horse.

"I will, my lord. Consider the proposition." I said, correcting myself before my meaning became unclear.

Èomer smile, and I gave him my ghost of a smile. I still couldn't bring myself to smile, even when I had many reasons to. He offered me his arm to escort me back to the hall, but I politely declined. It really wasn't necessary. We made our way up to the hall in comfortable silence. It was pleasant to have one such as Èomer that I could walk with, but never be forced to say a word.

We parted in the hall, and I moved quickly to my room to wash and change. I found a suitable dress, a midnight purple frock that was perfectly fitted to me, and quickly washed the dust from the stable away. Èowyn loved her horses, but she did not like to smell them outside of the stable. I dressed quick enough and made my way to Èowyn's room. She was waiting for me, almost impatient. I helped her into a pretty blue dress and quickly styled her hair. By this time, we were almost nearly late for supper. So we moved at a fast walk in order to meet the other royals at the dining table.

They were waiting for us, talking and laughing. Èowyn and I sat down at our usual seats, and then the meal began. I always admired the quality of the food served at Edoras. The king's meals were always magnificent, but even the servants' food was delicious. The fabled hospitality of the Rohirrim was unmatched. About halfway through supper, Théoden put down his fork and looked at his family.

"I met with our friend, Saruman the White today." He said after a moment of silence.

His family stopped eating and looked up at the king expectantly. I knew very little about this Saruman the White, only that he was head of the order of wizards and that he was a great ally to King Théoden.

"What was this meeting about?" the king's son asked, his tone and face casual.

"I needed some advice. I mentioned that I wish I could be more at leisure to ride out for advice, so he is sending a man whom he trusts to be my advisor on his behalf. He will be here on the morrow." Théoden said, speaking slowly.

"Have we not been of enough service, my lord? Is there something we could have done?" Èowyn asked almost as soon as the words passed his lips.

"You have been more than enough, Èowyn. But these are dark times, and I do not wish to trouble you with an old man's worries." Théoden said soothingly.

His family seemed to doubt his answer, but made no reply. The next course was served, and the meal continued in silence. Théodred, Èomer, Èowyn seemed lost in their thoughts, so I left them alone. Far be it from me to press someone into speech when they do not wish to speak. When the plates were cleared and dessert was served, Èomer turned to me.

"Have you considered my offer, Braedia?" he asked suddenly.

I looked up from my plate, my eyes wide. "My lord, you asked me but hours ago. You've hardly given me time to think." I said, after swallowing the mouthful of cake with some difficulty.

"What offer, Èomer?" Théoden asked, a little suspicious.

"Lord Èomer offered to teach me how to ride, Théoden King." I said, not looking directly at him for my gaze was still on Èomer.

His hazel eyes were twinkling with mischief; he planned to entrap me into taking lessons.

"Do you not have that skill?" Théoden asked confused.

"No, my lord. I never had the need to learn. Any place I wished to go was only a short walk." I said, my voice soft and demure.

"Valar be praised; there is a skill that this lady does not possess! I was beginning to think the contrary." Théodred teased gently.

I looked at him with a scolding half-smile. He always liked to tease me and goad me into losing my temper whenever he, his cousins, and I were alone, but I did not expect the same treatment before his father.

"She is frightfully timid around them, uncle. She won't go with me on my daily ride, which makes the whole affair dreadfully lonely." Èowyn joined in.

I looked at her sharply. I never expected her to join this battle against me. Théoden chuckled at their comments.

"You are in Rohan, Braedia. You cannot expect my people, my family in particular, to take well to your lack of skill on horseback. I am fit to agree with them on the matter. A person, man or woman, should at least have a basic level of comfort on horseback. You are commence daily lessons with Èomer, and when he is not in Edoras, Èowyn will take up the mantle until he returns." Théoden said, his tone suggesting that the matter was settled.

I consented softly and everyone returned to their dessert. I hardly had any appetite left, so I merely pushed the remnants around the plate. I silently and inwardly fumed over the whole matter. Èomer must have known that I would not consent of my own free will, so he forced my hand in the matter. Out of the many things that I could endure from other people, manipulation was not one of them. I understood that I was a maid, and at the bidding of my superiors, but I would have rather be banished or executed than do anything against my will.

When the meal concluded, I quickly excused myself from the company and went to my room. I resisted the strong urge I had to slam my door, but threw myself angrily into a chair by my fireplace. I poked the dying embers back into life and watched the flames moodily. I drew my hair over my shoulder and ran my hands through it, working out the tangles.

My thoughts strayed, as they often did, back to Minas Tirith. The Mid-Year Celebration would be fast approaching. It was always a day full of activity and excitement, and it was easy to lose oneself in the crowd and find a private place. My heart panged painfully at the memories of stolen meetings and kisses exchanged in darkened alleys on the courage and recklessness of too much ale or wine…

I felt a tear leak from the depths of my eyes, but I wiped it away quickly. I sighed, and then I heard a knock on my door. I sat up straight and beckoned the person to enter. I looked and saw that it was Èomer. I looked back to the fire and glared at it.

"I've come to discuss our lessons." Èomer said boldly after clearing his throat.

"I was under the impression that you had all of the details planned." I muttered with all of the bitterness I could muster.

Èomer was taken aback by my sudden burst of anger and came to sit in the chair opposite me by the fire.

"I did not know that this would be this difficult for you." Èomer began.

He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes were a bright gold in the firelight, and his expression was sincere.

"There is a reason I do not feel comfortable around horses." I said, my voice low and sharp.

Èomer looked at me questioningly. He was waiting for me to continue. My eyes had been narrowed in my glare, but I relaxed my face with a sigh and closed my eyes. I could feel the fear from my memory rising in my heart.

"I was young, not into my teens. My father had been teaching me to ride on his horse. The gelding was calm, and was rarely spooked. But there was a time when he was called into a scouting campaign, so he had to take his horse. Determined to continue my lesson on my own, I decided to use another horse. A stallion. Not thinking of the other riders in the paddock, I took him out. But there was a mare in season. I tried to control the stallion, but I was young, and my strength was nothing compared to that of the horse." I said, my voice breaking.

I kept my inner panic at bay, but I couldn't help the images that replayed in my mind. The bucking of the horse. The flashing of hooves above me. The unnatural noises that came from the beast.

"Were you hurt?" Èomer asked softly.

I shook my head.

"Being thrown by a stallion is frightening. It now makes perfect sense why you never rode a horse." Èomer said, his voice distant.

"I am glad you understand, my lord Èomer." I said, my words sharp.

I opened my eyes, and narrowed them slightly at him.

"Do not be angry with me. I do not wish you anger on any man." Èomer said, sitting back and holding up his hands.

I chuckled humorlessly at him and rolled my eyes. "Regardless of my anger, I know that you are right and mean well. I do need to learn to ride, lest I incur your sister's wrath." I said, smirking a little.

Èomer laughed and sat another moment with me in comfortable silence.

"I will make sure the horse is gentle, or the gentlest horse available." Èomer said, standing.

"Thank you, my lord. I am sure that you will be an excellent teacher." I said, looking up at him.

He nodded at me, and walked to the door. He was about to leave, but turned back to me.

"Breeches, for tomorrow. I would like you to be at the stable as soon as you finish dressing my sister. Our lessons will run from then until lunch." Èomer said, his voice a little stern.

I nodded. "Good-night, my lord." I said as he left.

He did not respond, but left the room, shutting the door softly behind him. I sighed, and looked at the fire again. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't help but feel the corners of my mouth pulling upwards slightly. The prospect of lessons with Èomer didn't sound nearly as daunting as it had before.

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><p><strong>AN: **

_**Rohan and The Riddermark can be used interchangeably. Rohan is the name that was given to the land when it separated from Gondor and is its common name. The people of the land call it The Riddermark, The Mark, or The Mark of the Riders _**(see, trivia lesson. I bet you didn't know that Rohan was once part of Gondor; now you can impress your other nerdy friends with your new-found knowledge)**_. **_

_**Rohiric is essentially Old English, which is what I'm going to be using for the language.** _

**Please Review and make me a happy author! Even if it's just a little "update soon" note, it would make me happy.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Review commentary time!**

**Inotia: Thanks! I'm almost done writing, so once I finish the story, it'll be much easier to update on a regular schedule. I'm hoping to make this at least a bi-monthly, if not a weekly updating situation.**

**FireheartNinja: Totally understand. I hate my phone's keyboard, but you gotta do what you gotta do. **

**julieAKAweirdo: Patience grasshopper. You will learn in approximately three chapters. But until then, I will keep you in suspense MUAHAHAHA! Just kidding. I hope you'll enjoy it the reveal when it comes.**

**Willow: Yeah. I had a lot of fun writing them. I would have written more, but the story had to move along a little faster.**

**Aranel: Thank you. I've actually made a conscious effort to improve my diction when writing this story. It's sort of degraded over time, but I kept it pretty high and kept words like "cool" and "awesome" and any sort of slang terms out of my characters' speech. Because you're right; this is Middle Earth. And, to be perfectly honest, the entire story has been planned out before I even started writing. **

**Keep the reviews coming, please! I love hearing what you guys have to say and I'll always respond, even if you say you hate me and my stories suck, which I hope that they don't, but please tell me if you don't like something and I'll try to change it. I write for you guys, and even though this is fun for me, without an audience to share this with, I really don't have a reason to write.**

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><p>The next morning, I dressed Èowyn quickly, almost hastily. She understood my haste, and made no remark when I left her hair unstyled. She had laughed when I walked into her room wearing leggings and a long tunic tightened around my waist with a belt. She had said that it was strange that a lady-in-waiting looked just as at home in men's clothing as in women's.<p>

As I finished helping her dress, she gave me leave to depart for the stables but warned me not to miss lunch. I promised her that I wouldn't on my way out of her room. As I went to the stables, I plaited my hair quickly, knowing that it would be best to keep it away from my face. I felt my nervousness grow, unsure of what to expect. I knew that Èomer wouldn't lead me knowingly into harm, and now that he understood my fear, he could properly adjust his teaching.

I found Èomer standing beside a stall in the stable. He was leaning against one of the beams that provided a division between the stalls, and he stood up straight once he saw me. I walked over to him quickly and looked at the horse in the stall.

"This is the horse I was able to procure for you. Her name is Narmírë." Èomer said, motioning to the beautiful horse before us.

"Fire jewel? How appropriate." I commented with a chuckle.

The horse was a beautiful shade of red, and her coat gleamed in the light streaming in from outside. She moved her head to look at me with her large black eyes. She bobbed her head as I looked at her, and I couldn't help but giggle.

"She belonged to a widow, but the woman recently passed. Her family decided to give the horse to the stables, because they did not want to keep the horse that reminded them so much of her. Now the stable is giving her to you." Èomer said, reaching out and petting Narmírë on the neck.

"Giving her to me? My lord, I cannot accept-"

"Yes, you can. You need to learn how to ride on a horse that you will be riding permanently. I learned to ride on Firefoot. It helps to strengthen the bond between horse and rider." Èomer said, sternly.

"If you insist, my lord." I said after a moment of silence.

"I must insist that, during these trainings, you call me by my given name. I understand that you must refer to my title inside the Golden Hall, but out here, we are equals." Èomer said, stopping and turning to me.

"Despite your skill being higher than my own? I feel that alone requires my use of your title." I said in jest.

"Braedia, please do not make me command you." Èomer said, sounding slightly frustrated.

"Of course I won't make you…Èomer." I said, smiling slightly to myself.

I could not help but notice how the word felt as it left my mouth. Èomer smiled, satisfied, and turned back to business.

"Now that you have been introduced to your horse, you will have to spend time getting to know each other." Èomer said happily.

He reached down to his feet and held up a bucket of grooming supplies. I rolled my eyes as he handed the bucket to me. I spent the next hour grooming my new horse, learning where she liked to be brushed, where she didn't want to be touched, all the while receiving instructions on improvements I could make from Èomer. He sat on a stool outside the stall, providing me room to move, but still close enough to watch me carefully.

I stood up after I had completed my task and looked to Èomer. He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, but then stood up. I, as I always did, had to admire how easily he moved, despite his overwhelming body structure.

"Do you know how to tack your horse?" he asked.

I nodded, and he bid me to show him. I almost finished putting the saddle on Narmírë, but he stopped to correct me. But instead of verbally telling me how to adjust, he came over and stood behind me, showing me the proper way to adjust. I noticed in that moment exactly how he smelled. His scent was unique: grass baking under the sun, a touch of honey (most likely from his soap), and the musty scent of horses. It was a very pleasant scent, and I could help the heat that rose in my cheeks because of it.

He moved away and gave me the lead. He walked with me as I led my horse out of the stable and into a paddock close to it. Narmírë was calm and responded well to my requests of her. When we reached the paddock, Èomer led me to a spot close to one of the edges.

"I'm going to help you into the saddle this once, just so I can adjust the stirrups. This will also be your saddle, so you do not have to check the stirrups every time you tack her." Èomer said, coming up behind me again.

He bid me to place one of my feet on the surface that was his interwoven fingers, and almost effortlessly helped me into the saddle. Sitting on top of the horse was a startling experience. I could feel every moment that Narmírë made, even her breaths. She tossed her head and looked back at me, as if determining whether to trust me on her back.

"_Sibb mæag__þ__." _I said softly, reaching forward and patting her neck.

Narmírë seemed to relax slightly under me and Èomer chuckled beside me.

"It is still strange to hear my language come so easily from one not of my land." Èomer said as he began adjusting the stirrups to my legs.

I was aware of his touch on my leg, but I paid it little mind.

"It seems to have a calming effect on the horses. It makes them believe that I am one of you." I said, barely keeping the laughter out of my voice.

Èomer laughed heartily. "Any advantage you can have at this moment is beneficial." He said.

I laughed in response. He finished adjusting the stirrups and then stood back.

"Now dismount." He said, and gave me instructions on how to do properly.

I easily slid from the horses back, and I turned to Èomer, looking pleased with myself. He was smirking ruefully.

"Now mount." He said, and gave me instructions.

I found that mounting my horse was much more difficult than dismounting. It took me a few tries before I could get enough spring to get onto the horse. True to his word, Èomer did not help me get on the horse, even when I was getting frustrated. Eventually I did make it back onto the horse, and I looked down at Èomer, once again pleased with myself.

"Now dismount." He said almost gleefully.

I looked at him, appalled. I had just managed to get onto the horse, now he wanted me to get off? He motioned for me to hurry up, and I eventually did dismount, despite my misgivings. But as soon as my feet touched the ground, he called for me to mount again. This went on for at least an hour. I would mount Narmírë and get comfortable, and then I would dismount. I almost understood what Èomer was doing; he was trying to get me comfortable getting on and off of my horse. But my understanding did not in any way reduce my frustration at the process.

After what felt like the hundredth time of mounting, Èomer finally told me to stay on the horse. He grabbed the lead rope and gently clicked the horse into motion. I was not expecting it, so I yelped, which made Narmírë move a little faster. But Èomer held the rope firmly, so she wasn't able to get very far.

"Grab the reins." He commanded.

I took the reins in my fists, but Èomer laughed. He instructed me how the correct way to hold the reins were, and I found it to be more comfortable than my previous attempt. He led me and the horse around the paddock at a slow walk, and it was then that I noticed that we were alone. When I pointed this out to Èomer, he looked up at me almost expectantly.

"I did not want to take any chances." He said simply, a smirk dancing on his features.

I smirked back at him and we continued our walk in silence. After a while, I was able to feel the motion of Narmírë's movements. I adjusted my movements to hers and it felt almost natural. Èomer noticed a little, but said nothing. I did, however, notice that he was smiling a little. We completed ten or so rounds of the paddock, and then he instructed me to dismount. I jumped down, and sighed satisfied with my efforts.

"You did very well today. Not many people would adjust their riding so quickly." Èomer said as he walked with me and Narmírë back into the stable.

"It feels a little familiar, even after more than a score of years." I said with a small chuckle.

"That is good; it will make teaching you a little easier." Èomer said.

I walked Narmírë back into her stall, and looked at him.

"Am I a difficult student?" I teased.

Èomer's face flushed a little and he stumbled over his words. "No, of course not." He said a last, and I could help but laugh at him.

He stopped suddenly and looked at me. I stopped in my efforts to untack Narmírë, and looked back questioning.

"That felt like the first time you've ever really laughed. And not just the half laughs or the half smiles that you give everyone, but a real laugh." Èomer said softly.

I looked away from him and felt my cheeks heating up. I had felt the corners of my mouth pulling higher than they had in years, but I had paid no attention to it. Then suddenly I felt his hand on my face. His fingers were calloused from years of sword play and horse riding, but they felt warm on my face. He turned me to look at him.

"I enjoy your smile." He said after a moment.

His eyes were tinted green in this light, and they seemed to look through me rather than at me. We stayed there, his hand on my face, our eyes connected by some unbreakable bond, for what felt like a lifetime. I couldn't force myself to look away from him, and he seemed prefect content to stare into the depths of my eyes for eternity. But then suddenly, a bell signaling the hour rang out through Edoras. I jumped violently, and Èomer's hand dropped from my face.

"We should go back to prepare for lunch." He said, his face flushing now.

I nodded, and we left Narmírë to be groomed by the stable hands. We walked together to the steps, an awkward silence settling between us. It was almost silently decided that we were not going to mention what had just occurred in the stable. We parted in the hall, I going to my chamber to wash, he going to his.

As soon as the door was shut behind me, I leaned against it and let out a breath that I seemed to be holding. I touched the place where his hand had been, and shook my head. I would not allow such foolish notions into my head when my heart still belonged to another. I quickly washed and changed from my breeches to a dress in anticipation of the meal. After I was prepared, I went to find Èowyn to see if she needed my help. She was not in her chambers, so I went to the hall, thinking I would find her there. I was correct and I found her sitting at the table with her family and one other.

As I approached the table, I saw that he had taken Èomer's usual seat to the King's left, and Èomer had moved to sit at the opposite end of the table from his uncle. I could tell from his expression that he was not pleased. I sat down in my usual seat next to Èowyn and looked at the man who had joined us. He was dressed in heavy black furs, which made his abnormally pale skin look almost translucent. His eyes were strange and gave me an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. One of his eyes was bright blue and the other was black as a starless night. When he looked at me, I could not help but to look away.

"Who is this charming maiden?" he asked once the meal was started.

"She is Lady Èowyn's lady-in-waiting. Braedia, this is Gríma." Théoden said, motioning between us.

"Braedia." Gríma said, and the way he said my name made my skin crawl and a chill run up my spine.

I nodded to him but said nothing otherwise. We ate in a thick silence, and I could tell that everyone was tense. I kept glancing at Èomer, but his eyes were trained on Gríma, and I felt reassured that I was not the only one that felt ill at ease with this man. The meal ended, and I went back to Lady Èowyn's room to help her prepare for her afternoon rest.

"What do you think of Gríma?" she asked as I helped her undress.

"My opinion does not matter, my lady." I said softly.

"It does to me. Now answer, please." Èowyn said sternly.

I sighed and held her dress in my hand for a moment.

"I cannot be sure, but something about him feels…off. I have the feelings in me that I usually associate with dark thunderclouds on the horizon. It feels wrong." I said, moving around to help her prepare.

"Indeed. We will just have to keep watch on him." Èowyn said.

"Yes, my lady." I said.

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><p><em><strong>Pronounciation Guide: Narmírë: nar (rhymes with bar)-MERE (rhymes with ear)-ee. In Prof. Tolkien's Elvish languages, an accent in Elvish means that the sound is elongated.<strong>_

_**Translation:**_

_**Sibb mæag**__**þ – Easy girl (lit. Peace girl)**_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: So I have excellent news! I have finished this portion of the series! Oh...maybe I should back up. Firstly, I would like to announce that I'm going to be turning this story into the first part of a series called "The Isilme Chronicles" (for those of you who do not speak Elvish "isilme" means "moonlight"). There are going to be at least three more parts to the series; one of these will be the finishing of the Braedia/Eomer story, and the other two are just going to be surprises. I'm thinking now that I have "Even This Darkness Must Pass" finished, I'm going to update on a semi-regular basis now. I'm going to ask you, the readers, how often you would like me to publish new parts out of the following options: A) Two chapters a week B) One chapters a week C) Two chapters every two weeks D) One chapter every two weeks. Keep in mind that I'm most likely not going to publish anything from the next portion of the series until I am more than 3/4 of the way done (and I'm not even close right now).  
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**And now for some more review commentary!**

**Certh: Thank you for your really in depth review. I like seeing people thinking critically. As far as the spelling goes, it's actually a little bit my fault about the accents. Before I even started writing, I set up my Auto-correct feature on Microsoft Word to correct with the grave accent. I could have set it up the other way, but I found out too late. So I hope it doesn't bother you that much, because it's most likely not going to change in the foreseeable future. On punctuation, the comma thing has been my hardest habit to shake. I'll try to make a conscious effort to fix it, but no promises. As far as names go, for Braedia, I wasn't looking for so much of a "region specific" name, because she is both Rohiric and Gondorian. So it could have gone either way. I'd like to think that Braedia sounds Elvish, but it might be a little human. I just started generating random names and picked the one that I liked the best. But as far as Narmírë goes, she actually has a secret that I'm not going to reveal for a long time. Now I'm going to have you wondering *evil grin* but you will get no hints from me.**

**Keep the reviews coming! I really like to hear from you guys!**

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><p>The days passed quickly. My mornings were filled with my lessons, and my afternoons were spent by Èowyn's side. Shortly after Gríma's arrival, she instructed me to never leave her alone, if it could be helped. The seasons cycled through, and by the winter, Èomer had me riding with him on short jaunts outside of the walls of the city. We never went faster than a slow canter, but I could tell that it pleased him that I was learning quickly.<p>

But after the mid-winter celebration, I could tell that Gríma was starting to have an effect on the king. I knew that Théoden often rode out to check on the welfare of his people, but now he rarely left Edoras. Gríma advised the king to send out his son, and when reports came back of Orcs terrorizing the outer reaches of the kingdom, Théoden did nothing.

As another year made a turn, I could tell that Gríma was trying to drive a wedge between Èomer and Théodred, because I often saw them softly arguing in shadowed hallways. But it was clear that they could work out their differences without their friendship suffering. I also noticed that Èomer had to leave the city with his _éored_ more often. Èowyn was glad for my company on her rides, but I knew that she feared for her brother and her cousin. We would often spend nights by the fire under the pretense that we were sewing, but she always looked off out of her window, her mind lost in thought.

Another year came and went, and my horse riding skills improved vastly. Unfortunately, I was unable to show Èomer my improvements because I barely saw him. I was not aware of how much his friendship had meant to me until his presence was removed from my life. I hadn't even felt the addition to my life that all of the royal family made, even Théodred with whom I was never very close, until it was gone.

Meals with Théoden had been put on hold indefinitely, because he was starting to grow weak. There was something unnatural with the pace that the king had aged. It felt like only a few weeks ago, he was young with only a touch of grey to his hair. But now, he rarely walked, and it was only to his throne and back to his chambers. He was wasting away before my eyes, but there was nothing I could do about it. If Gríma had his way, I would have been banned from being near the royals all together, but Èowyn, Èomer and Théodred had stood strong against that. I was glad they felt so strongly for me, and it made me feel more at home in Meduseld than I ever had felt in the White Tower.

When I was ever allowed to let my mind wander, because my free time had been dwindling with other mundane duties, it rarely if ever went back to that time of my life. I found that my thoughts always wandered to Èomer, and what he was doing. Days with him were precious to me, and days without him were always heavy. I knew that my heart would always belong to another, but I could not deny the effect that his attentions were having on me.

Another year came and went, and things only grew from bad to worse. Gríma rarely left the king's side, and Théoden was now withering away to nothing. He relied on Gríma for everything, and it felt wrong, but there was very little I could do about it. Gríma also began to show special attention to Èowyn, often attempting to order me away, but his attempts were thwarted by the lady. Gríma finally succeeded in stopping my dining with the royal family, so I was forced to eat alone. Gríma then started bringing in more men of his own to guard Meduseld, and these men made me nervous. Within the first year, a few men were in the Golden Hall at Gríma's request but I always felt safe because Èomer and Théodred were there to make sure that it was known that I had protection. Not that I needed it, because Èowyn and I often took our swords out on her ride to practice away from the prying eyes of the city. But now that Èomer and Théodred rarely graced the Golden Hall, the lecherous stares made me walk a little bit faster away from them.

Luckily, they rarely went into the stables, which was where I often found sanctuary. Narmírë was spoiled with my attention during this time, which she appreciated. I had grown to love and adore her more over the years, and she felt comfortable around me often enough to let me take short naps with her in her stall. But as winter faded and spring began again, I did not have the same sense of joy that I usually had with the coming of the warmer climates. I only felt dread and despair in my heart. I only prayed to the Valar that matters would take a turn for the better.

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><p>I woke up one morning during early spring and the air had a chilly bite to it. I knew that my ride with Èowyn today would be a cold one. I got out of bed and splashed some water from my basin into my face to help wake me up. My dreams last night had been haunted by strange images. I closed my eyes briefly, and I felt the pain from my dream wash over me.<p>

_Boromir stood in a clearing of a wood. There were two people, they looked almost like children, standing near him. Orcs were surrounding him from all sides, but Boromir fought like a hero. He wielded his sword and protected those two little men from harm. But then his body was pierced by an arrow. Boromir gasped and the two little men looked on in horror. But Boromir raised himself from his pain and continued to slay the evil creatures around him. But then he was struck by another arrow and then another. His horn was cloven in two and Boromir fell to his knees. An Orc, larger and more terrifying than any of the others, stood before him and drew back a final arrow. Boromir looked up at the creature, gasping against death that he surely felt creeping upon him._

I shook myself out of my waking dream and plaited my hair carefully. I chose to pay no heed to these images. They were only dreams, after all. I slid on a dress, for Èowyn was teaching me how to ride side-saddle. It was a simple brown dress, unlike the other slightly more ornate clothes that I was given. I met Èowyn out in the stable, and was quickly saddled our horses. The air smelled clean. It had rained during the night, cleansing the land.

Èowyn and I quickly made our way to the opening by which we left the city for the plains surrounding it. The path descending the hill was tricky, and it had made both myself and Narmírë nervous the first time we had taken it. But now, we traversed it easily. When Èowyn and I reached the plains, she broke out into a gallop but I stayed behind at a quick canter. I felt perfectly comfortable galloping when I sat astride a horse, but sitting side-saddle gave me an unease that prevented me from riding as hard as Èowyn did. She did eventually slow and I was able to catch up with her. The sun had risen, and it dried to the earth. I breathed deep, enjoying the scent in my nose. I stood beside Èowyn as she looked out over the plains.

"What do you think that is?" she asked me, looking out toward the horizon.

I looked in the direction she pointed and I saw that there was a block of dark color moving quickly toward the city. I could see that there was gold and red in the mass, for the sun glinted off of it. The motion of the group suggested horses.

"Riders, my lady. I can see red and gold," I said, and I felt Narmírë shifting eagerly under me. She could smell her fellows from this distance, as the breeze blew from their direction.

"Do you think it would be Théodred's or Èomer's company?" Èowyn teased gently.

"Either would be a comfort. The halls are so dark without their laughter," I said with a longing sigh.

"Come, let us ride out and meet them," Èowyn said, pushing her horse forward into a fast canter.

I pushed Narmírë to keep pace, but I felt something rising in my stomach. It was a sense of dread that I couldn't fight. The company was smaller than either of theirs, and they rode with much haste. Even when Èomer had been gone for months on end, he never rode with this much speed to get back to Edoras. Something felt wrong.

As Èowyn and I drew closer to the group, I could begin to see that many horses bore more than one rider, including the lead horse. I could feel my heart beating in my throat. I pushed Narmírë to go faster, and she quickly left Èowyn behind. I reached the group and I could not help but let out a gasp. Èomer was leading the company, and Théodred rode in front of him. I quickly joined Èomer at the head of the column, and I wanted to ask Èomer what had happened, but I was trying to concentrate on not losing my seat and keeping pace with the group. Èowyn fell in next to us, and we rode quickly and silently with the warriors back into the city. Once we were passed the gates, Èowyn turned to her brother.

"Take him to the healers right away. He needs medical attention. Then you are to tell me all that has happened. Braedia, can you take care of our horses?" she said sternly, turning to me at the end.

"Of course, my lady. I will follow you as soon as they are stabled," I replied quickly.

"We can only hope that it is not too late," Èowyn said.

We reached the steps to the hall and we all dismounted quickly. Èowyn helped me lead the horses to the stable as Èomer carried Théodred up to the Golden Hall. Èowyn rushed away quickly after giving her horse to a stable hand. I tried to follow my orders, but my hands were shaking too much to undo the buckles of the saddles effectively. A hand was placed over mine from behind and I looked to see one of Èomer's fellows.

"Go to them," He said simply.

I felt the tears that I had been holding back slide down my face as I gave him a nod of appreciation. I gathered my voluminous skirts and ran from the stables to the Golden Hall. I could hear commotion near Théodred's chambers, so I moved quickly toward the hall that led to them. But I was stopped in my tracks as Gríma stepped out from behind a pillar between me and the door.

"Move, snake. I was bid to come by Lady Èowyn and Lord Èomer," I snapped venomously. I was in no mood to deal with his tricks today.

"Leave the royals to take care of their own. Surely there is something you could do in the kitchens," Gríma said, his voice almost gentle.

I glared at him and I could feel my blood boil. But thankfully, someone called my name from behind him before I had a chance to strangle the life from him. I looked and saw that Èomer was beckoning me to come to him. I glared at Gríma once more before hurrying to Èomer.

"Èowyn is sitting with Théodred now," Èomer said as he led me away from the main hall.

"Is that all you needed?" I asked softly.

"I saw the way you looked at Gríma. I knew I was right in thinking that I never want your wrath unleashed upon me," Èomer teased.

"Oh how you jest. You've been gone for months; you come back bearing a mortally wounded prince, and yet you still find the heart to tease me," I said, half angry but half joking.

I lightly hit his shoulder, and despite his armor, he feigned as if I had actually hurt him. I rolled my eyes viciously at him and he chuckled.

"But what happened, Èomer? I cannot bear this suspense," I said almost desperately.

We had stopped in a narrow hallway a little ways away from Théodred's chamber. We were not in the way, but I had a clear view of the doorway where everyone was rushing in and out of. I looked back down the hall now, and Èomer sighed.

"Théodred's _éored _was sent to the River Isen to see to a village that was under attack. I was bid not to follow, despite Théodred's numbers being few. I could not shake the unease from my mind, so I disobeyed orders and followed Théodred a day later. I arrived at the Fords of Isen and found that a great massacre had occurred. None survived, Orc or man. It was lucky that we found Théodred alive," Èomer said, his words coming out slowly but angrily.

"Where do these Orcs keep coming from? Surely not from Mordor," I whispered angrily.

"No, these Orcs were not of Mordor. They all bore the white hand of Saruman," Èomer spat, as if each word would poison him if they were left in his mouth.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked down the hallway. I could see Gríma standing in the archway that connected the hallway to the Great Hall. He was watching the goings-on around Théodred's room, so I was unsure if he could see Èomer and I.

"Please come with me. I wish to talk where there will not be ears to overhear us," I whispered to Èomer.

He looked down at me, and I then realized how close we were. Èomer nodded and took my hand. He was still wearing his gauntlets, so it was a little clumsy. He led me down a separate hall and glanced around before we entered a door. I looked around and I realized that we were in Èomer's chambers. I walked over to the fireplace and poked flames into life.

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><p><em><strong>I did my research extensively on this. Théoden was actually being poisoned over the course of at least four years before Gandalf and company show up. So you can't argue with me over accuracy.<strong>_

**Review with the answer to my question please! What question, you might ask? Well, someone obviously didn't read the author's note in the beginning of this chapter...But seriously, please let me know what your opinion on the matter is. I want to keep ya'll happy (and I can get away with that horrible contraction, because I'm southern, and that's how we talk).  
><strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So I have decided to try to post at least one, if not two chapters, of this story a week. I have all of the next part planned, so I should be able to finish it relatively quickly. So I would put this story on Story Alert, just so you don't miss any of the action. And I'm not saying that because I want to have a lot of people coming back; I'm saying it because I genuinely don't want you to miss anything. Now some review commentary.**

**Willow: I've tried really hard to make sure that Eomer and Braedia (and yes, you did spell it right; if you don't, it comes out Breadia, and frankly, that just looks silly) don't just fall in love overnight. That drives me nuts in stories, unless it serves a purpose, because it doesn't happen like that in real life. **

**xXxFantasyAmorexXx: Thanks for reading, and reviewing for the first time. Unfortunately, I'm entirely sure which suspense you mean, but if my best guess is right, then I'm keeping you in suspense for one more chapter.**

** Certh: It's nice to hear from you again. Thank you for coming back.**

**Once again, if you take the time to review, I make sure to take the time to respond. So please review. I like to hear from everyone. I'm not going to threaten people because that gets us no where. But all comments and critiques are welcome and appreciated. Even the flames have valid points sometimes.**

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><p>I turned back and saw that Èomer was looking at me. "I have done what you asked of me, Èomer." I said softly, closing my eyes.<p>

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><p><em>Èomer stood next to his stall, saddling his horse. He was to be sent out on scouting campaigns through the winter, and would not return until spring. He had bid me to come to help him, although I was unsure as to why. I knew that he did not need help with his horse. When he was all but ready to depart, he turned to me. We had not spoken since I had arrived, but I knew better than to push Èomer to speech when he did not wish it. <em>

"_I have a favor to ask of you, Braedia." He said at last. _

_I nodded, bidding him to go on. He gently grabbed my upper arm and pulled me close to him. _

"_I do not trust Gríma. You are woven deeply into the fabric of Meduseld now. People trust you, and they will tell you things that they may not tell others. Please keep a weather eye and a keen ear out for anything strange and plan to give me a full report upon my return." He said softly into my ear. _

_I could feel that he was glancing around behind me, watching for enemies. _

"_Of course, Èomer." I whispered back. _

_He released me and mounted his horse. I stood aside and looked up at him. "I trust you. Do not disappoint me." He said with a playful smirk. _

"_I wouldn't dream of disappointing you. I will show you how much I advance upon your return." I said with a sly wink. _

_He winked back, and then spurred his horse into a gallop out of the stable._

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><p>"What have you heard?" Èomer asked, now keenly interested.<p>

"The servants hear many things, and you were right to think that they trusted me. The men that Gríma has brought are Northerners. From where they hail, I cannot say exactly, but I know that they are not loyal to Rohan." I said, speaking quickly.

"I thought as much. Have you heard of what it is that Gríma has been doing to the king?" Èomer asked.

I shook my head. "I asked everyone. I asked the cooks if Gríma requests anything special for the king, but they knew of nothing. I asked the healers if they were bid to make any special brews, but they knew of nothing. Whatever that worm is doing to Théoden King is not natural." I said, my voice soft but intense.

Èomer sighed and started pacing. He was muttering angrily to himself.

"Also, I've noticed that Gríma watches your sister. And not in a comforting manner. He tries to separate us, but she stands firm in never letting me leave her side when it can be helped." I said softly.

Èomer stopped pacing and looked at me. "He watches her?" he questioned, his tone just soft enough to hide the anger I could see building in his eyes.

I nodded. "I try my best to keep him away from her, even distracting him myself." I said, looking at the floor.

"Distracting him in what way?" Èomer asked, suddenly very stern and his voice was raised.

"Not in the way you are thinking, Èomer. Just keeping him away from her by talking to him. I feign interest in him, and he seems to take the bait just long enough to give Lady Èowyn a moment's peace." I said, rolling my eyes at his suggestion that I would sacrifice my maiden honor to that vermin.

"That is going above what I asked of you." Èomer said after a moment.

I looked back at him. I could still see the anger in his eyes, but there was something else there, something else that was difficult to identify.

"It was the least I could do. Your sister has always been so good to me." I said, brushing it off.

Èomer nodded, and then he sighed. "I must confront my uncle. Perhaps he has enough mind to know that his son is injured and the time has come to stand up to this threat." Èomer said, his eyes flashing in anger.

He started to walk out of the room, but I moved quickly and grabbed his arm.

"Please think about what you're doing, Èomer. You have been gone a long while, and your uncle has been greatly weakened over these many weeks. He may not recognize you. Are you willing to face that?" I asked, my grip tight on his arm.

Èomer was looking down at me, and I could feel his eyes soften.

"I am. I need to face this problem, regardless of the consequences." Èomer said.

I looked deep into his eyes, and I saw his conviction. I nodded and let him go. We walked out of the room. I went to Théodred's room with Èomer and I saw that Èowyen was sitting on the edge of his bed, the front of her dress stained with blood. Èomer went to her, and I could see the intense connection they shared in their glance. I stayed by the door, and watched as Èomer muttered something to her. She looked at Théodred and after a moment, nodded. She stood and Èomer bent down to pick something up. They both walked to me by the door.

"Come with us. We need your support in this." Èowyen said, taking my hand in hers.

It was slick with blood, and I could see the fatigue in her eyes. Her face was pale, but there were little flecks of blood on it and the tips of her hair were red with blood. She was in need of a good cleaning. I nodded and Èomer led the way to the throne where Théoden sat. Èowyen looked at me and I gave her hand a squeeze. I stood a little behind Èomer as Èowyn knelt before her uncle briefly.

"Your son is badly wounded, my lord." She said gravely, her voice trembling slightly.

She stood up and walked back to stand beside her brother. I looked at the king between them, and I was almost sickened by what he had become. He was little more than a shell for his mind, and even that lay dormant.

"He was ambushed by Orcs. If we do not defend our land, Saruman will take it by force." Èomer said heatedly.

He was looking at his uncle, as if willing the man to stand up and look back, but he received no such reply.

"That is a lie. Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally." I heard a now-familiar slimy voice reply from the shadows.

Gríma stepped out of the shadow of a pillar and went to kneel by the king's side. The king mumbled the man's name feebly, and I could feel my anger boiling just beneath the surface of my skin. How could the king call for such a traitor as Gríma Wormtounge when his family stood before him, ready to defend him?

"Orcs are roaming freely across our lands. Unchecked, unchallenged, killing at will. Orcs bearing the White Hand of Saruman." Èomer said, dropping the thing he had been carrying at his uncle's feet.

I realized then that it was an Orc helmet with a white hand print painted on the top of it. It was proof of Saruman's treachery, but still Théoden did nothing. I wanted to run up to the king and shake the old age off of him, but I stood behind Èowyn and Èomer, clenching and unclenching my fist slowly to control my anger.

"Why do you lay these troubles on an already troubled mind? Can you not see? Your uncle is wearied by your malcontent…your warmongering." Gríma muttered to Èomer.

"Warmongering?" Èomer questioned with one humorless chuckle.

"Braedia, take my sister to her chambers." He snapped at me.

"Yes, my lord." I said quickly.

I grabbed Èowyn by the hand, and tried to drag her away, but Èowyn just merely walked a few steps and stopped. We looked back and saw that Èomer had grabbed Gríma bodily and had him pinned against the pillar. He was muttering to him, but the words were too low for us to understand. Then we saw Gríma look over his shoulder to us, and Èomer looked behind him. I pulled Èowyn away quickly, sensing the violence that might erupt.

As we passed, some of Gríma's men moved toward the pair. I stopped in the archway, and looked back as the men grabbed Èomer. I gasped as he tried to fight against them, and was punched in the stomach.

"You see much, Èomer son of Eomund. Too much." Gríma said loudly.

Èomer was struggling to free himself, and I wanted to run to him, to help him.

"You are banished forthwith from the kingdom of Rohan and all its domains under pain of death." Gríma said, his voice full of false pride.

I felt my breath leave me. How could Èomer be banished? How could a king banish is nephew?

"You have no authority over me. Your orders mean nothing." Èomer said, still struggling.

"But this order does not come from me. It comes from the king. He signed it this morning." Gríma said, his tone gleeful.

He held up a document that unmistakably held the signature of the king. Èomer roared, but was dragged away from the room by the guards. He was dragged from the Golden Hall and out into Edoras through the front doors. Not thinking, I gathered my skirts and ran after him.

"Do not go after him." A voice called out to me.

I stopped and turned. Gríma was standing with his hands behind his back in front of the king, completely blocking him from my view. I narrowed my eyes and glared at him.

"Try to stop me, and I'll show you how I survived all those years in the Wilds on my own." I said, my tone low and dangerous.

I turned and quickly ran after the group still moving to the stable. I pushed through the crowd and found that the guards were making sure that Èomer was not delaying in taking his leave.

"Let me through, you swine. I demand to see Lord Èomer." I shouted at them.

"He has been banished from these lands; none can see him." A large man said.

He was uglier than any man I had ever seen in my life, and smelled worse than an Orc corpse.

"Move aside, vermin. I will not be barred by the likes of rats that scavenge from the Golden Hall." I said, my eyes flashing with anger.

"Did I not make it perfectly clear? You. Cannot. See him. Now run along, girl, before we have to make you." the man said.

I felt pure rage boiling up to the surface. I opened my mouth to let him have a good tongue lashing, but something cleared their throat behind the man, drawing my attention. It was Èomer, leading his horse toward us.

"Move aside, men. She will not delay me long." Èomer's said.

They looked between Èomer and I, as if deciding if Èomer still had the authority to give orders. Èomer looked at them sternly, and they eyed the heavy sword that was at his side. Eventually, after several moments of tense silence, they moved and allowed Èomer through.

"Walk me to the gate." Èomer said softly.

I nodded and fell into step beside him. The guards moved to walk behind us.

"Please keep watch on Èowyen for me." He whispered in my ear.

"Of course. I will not abandon her." I said quickly. I knew that our words would be few, so I wanted to make the most of them.

"Can I ask something else of you?" Èomer asked.

I looked up at him, bidding him to go on.

"I cannot expect this of you, but I have a feeling in my heart that I will be coming back to Edoras. Whether that will be on the back of a horse on the back of my shield, I cannot yet tell. But I will be coming back. I know that even this darkness must pass. Can I ask you to not give your heart away until I return?" Èomer asked.

We had reached the gate, and we stopped. I stared up at him, completely dumbfounded. He was asking me to wait for him? He, the king's nephew, was asking me, his sister's servant, to wait for him to return so that he might have my heart? Was he admitting that he was in love with me?

"Please speak quickly. The guards grow restless." Èomer said softly.

He gently took one of my upper arms and pulled my ear to his lips.

"What say you?" he asked.

"I cannot promise you my heart, because I gave it to another before and I have yet to receive it back." I said, the words coming out of my mouth before I had a chance to check them.

"One of Gondor?" Èomer asked, his tone a little bitter.

"Yes." I whispered, realizing that the damage was done, so there was no use in trying to lie.

"Then this is good-bye. I hope you are reunited with the one who holds your heart so dearly, whether in this life or the next." Èomer said.

He kissed my cheek swiftly and pulled away. I stood stunned as he mounted his horse and rode away from Edoras. I could feel the tears slipping down my cheeks, but I could not determine what their cause was.

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><p><strong>Did you see what I did there, eh, EH? I put the title...IN THE STORY! You should review and tell me how clever I am.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Woo! Into the double digits now! Let's get started with the commentary**

**MDRobin: Thank you for reviewing. And I completely agree. Meeting one day and getting married the next is completely unrealistic. However, I'm putting out the call to everyone to let me know when my pacing gets a little slow. You'll learn what I mean when we get into Chapters 20-35. **

**Certh: Thank you for your in-depth review. You're always good for them :) And yes, I know I misspelled Eowyn. Before I started writing, I put all of the names of the characters into the Auto-Correct feature on Microsoft Word. But when I put in Eowyn's name, I misspelled it. Now it won't correct me if I use the second 'e'. So just be patient and point it out when I do misspell anything. I'll go back and fix it as quick as I can.**

**Willow: I try to be clever, and sometimes it works, other times it doesn't. I'm glad I'm not missing. And honestly, the competition isn't quite as fierce as one might think.**

**Thanks to everyone who reads this and put it on Story Alert, or favorites it. I wouldn't continue writing this story if I wasn't getting such positive feedback. I hope you enjoy another chapter. Now on with the story!**

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><p>I made my way back up to the Golden Hall trying to control my tears. I found that Théoden had been removed from his throne, so I made my way to Èowyn's chambers. She had not returned from her bath, something I could tell from the discarded dress that lay on the floor. I quickly gathered it up and put it with her other clothes that would need to be laundered. I moved around the lady's room, tidying up the relatively neat room. The door opened, and Èowyn came back into the room. She relaxed upon seeing me, and I started to help her dress. I said nothing as I laced her stays and styled her hair.<p>

"You went after my brother." She said after a few moments of silence.

It was less of a question than a statement, so I chose not to respond.

"Why?" she asked.

I sighed, and stopped styling her hair. "I'm still not entirely sure. But it felt good to release some of my anger verbally at the men that hurt him." I said a little spitefully.

"You walked with him to the gate. I saw you pass. Did he say anything to you?" she asked, her voice a little too casual.

I sighed again, debating on whether or not I wanted her to know what was exchanged between Èomer and I.

"Please tell me. I want to know what my brother said." She pushed after a moment.

"He asked me to look after you, which I promised that I would continue to do." I said, deciding on a partial truth rather than a full lie.

"Anything else?" Èowyn asked, her voice a little more forceful.

I felt a lump rising in my throat again, and I stopped trying to style Èowyn's hair.

"He asked me to save my heart for him." I said, my voice choked by tears.

I sat in a chair by her fire and buried my face in my hands.

"He asked you what?" Èowyn asked shocked. She moved to the other chair opposite me.

"He said that he wasn't sure if he would return to Edoras alive or dead, but he asked me not to give away my heart until he returned." I said, speaking through my tears.

I had not cried like this since the days right after my banishment from Gondor, when I felt that my despair would consume my soul.

"And what did you say?" Èowyn asked, sounding very concerned now.

"I said that I could not promise him my heart because I gave it away to another long ago and it was never returned to me." I said, starting to calm down.

"You had a lover in Gondor?" Èowyn asked, now slightly confused.

I nodded, and I wiped away my tears.

"Who was he?" Èowyn asked.

I sighed, and I felt my regret rising. I had promised that I would never lie to the royals again, but I did not want my friend Èowyn to lose respect for me when she found out the truth of my past.

"If I tell you this, you have to promise me that you will not reveal this secret to anyone." I said seriously.

She looked a little surprised, but she nodded all the same. I took a deep breath, and then I looked at my hands in my lap.

"I was in love with the son of the Steward, Boromir." I said slowly.

I looked up at Èowyn, and he shock was written across her face.

"You were in love with Boromir? Did he return your affections?" Èowyn said softly, as if she suspected someone of listening in on our conversation.

"Most adamantly. He wanted to marry me." I said, my voice growing warm at the memories.

"How did it all begin? Tell me everything." Èowyn said, turning to face me more directly.

"It is a long story." I said, shaking my head a little.

"I wish to hear it all, even if that means not sleeping tonight. I suspect that neither of us would get much sleep tonight regardless." Èowyn said, her tone a little dark.

I sighed and looked at her. She had that stubborn look in her eyes, and I knew that I had started this conversation, so I must end it.

"As I've said before, my mother was the nursemaid to both Boromir and Faramir when the time came. She practically raised the boys, especially after their mother died. I was raised alongside them, despite being only a servant's daughter. Eventually, the sibling affections sprang into something deeper. But we knew it was love shortly after the start of summer of our twentieth year." I said, smiling at the memory.

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><p><em>We had snuck away from the festivities of the Mid-Summer Celebration. We laughed as we held hands and ran through the dark alleys of Minas Tirith. We had given Faramir the slip, and I could feel the wine starting to go to my head. Shame on Boromir for getting me to drink too much. But we eventually ran out of breath from running and laughing so much and stopped in the shadowed alley in a village I couldn't quite recognize. The space was quite small, so we were forced to stand quite close together. <em>

"_I hope Faramir knows how to talk as well as he writes or reads." Boromir said, gently teasing his brother's more academic mind. _

"_He's going to have to if he's going to get away from Helga. She was quite insulted by his not returning her affections." I said, laughing at the situation that Faramir had gotten himself into. _

"_There are many that do not return another's affections, despite those affections being displayed quite boldly." Boromir said, his voice husky in my ear. _

_I looked up at him questioning, and his eyes were glinting strangely in the light from the lanterns. I could see his lips moving toward mine in slow motion, and it almost felt like a dream when their velvet soft surface touched mine. After the initial touch, we pulled away and looked at each other, quite struck dumb with the action. But then he grabbed the back of my head and pulled his lips to mine for a much more passionate kiss._

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><p>"After that day, we often snuck off together and shared affections in shadowed corners in secret. He was the Steward's son and his father kept his schedule quite tight. And as a maid, I could not escape my duties. But we found the time." I went on after a moment of silence.<p>

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><p>"<em>Boromir. Quiet, or we will be discovered." I said, my voice coming out as gasps as Boromir kissed the tender spots on my neck. <em>

"_Then let them find us. I would rather have our courtship be out in the open rather than having to sneak away from our duties all of the time." Boromir said, his voice rough with passion. _

_He came back up and claimed my lips in another passionate kiss. _

"_I cannot risk that, my love. You know what your father would do to me if he were to find us out. Or what he would do to you, or to your brother for even being involved." I said, my mood completely soured by the thought. _

_I pushed Boromir away slightly and forced him to look at me. He sighed, but continued to hold me tight to him. _

"_I know you are right. But promise me that one day, after my father loses sway over me, that we will make what we have known to everyone. I hate to hide such a beautiful relationship from the world." Boromir said somberly. _

_I smiled and agreed and we shared another passionate kiss before departing._

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><p>"We continued to meet in secret for many months, and I knew that we were taking bigger and bigger risks with each meeting. His brother, Faramir, had helped to provide support for Boromir when his absence was questioned. My mother had passed by this time, but she never knew of my relationship with Boromir. Despite his want to take our relationship public, he remained perfectly respectful when we were together in front of anyone that mattered." I said.<p>

I stopped and Èowyn looked at me expectantly.

"What happened then?" she asked when I was silent.

"The inevitable." I said, my voice shaking as I remembered it.

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><p><em>Boromir and I stood in his chambers. He was dressed in full armor. He was to be sent out to help defend his country. It was what he had been planning to do with this life, but I couldn't help but fear for him. I had my arms around his neck and he had his around my waist, holding me close. His armor was cold, but I could endure that just to be near to him. <em>

"_Please try to return to me. I know how eager you are to die in the field of battle." I tried to tease him. _

_It was a failure because I had tears streaming down my face. He wiped them away as best as he could, by kissing them away. _

"_I promise I'll return to you. I have something to return to, so dying in the glory of battle is not as appealing to me." He said softly laughing. _

_I could not help but chuckle at his laugh. We locked our lips in another passionate kiss, and I could feel all of the emotions I felt for him rush through our connected lips. We pulled apart, and he put his forehead to mine. _

"_I love you, Braedia." He whispered to me. _

"_I love you too, Boromir." I whispered back with a smile. _

_He kissed me again, and we let it linger. But then suddenly, the door to his chamber flew open, and we both looked to see that it was Denathor. We detangled our limbs and sprang away from each other quickly, but the damage was done. He had seen us. We had been discovered._

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><p>"So then you were banished for loving the Steward's son? Where is the crime in that?" Èowyn asked heatedly.<p>

"I was a distraction from his duties as Captain of Gondor. And I was only a chambermaid. The court at Edoras has been more than generous by promoting me to a position at your side. I was never this highly ranked at Gondor." I said, trying to get her to understand.

"But all you ever did was love him." Èowyn said, still in disbelief.

"Yes, I know." I said softly.

I looked back down into my lap and we were silent except for the crackling fire.

"Where is Boromir now?" Èowyn asked.

I shrugged. "I never had the chance to say good-bye. Boromir was fighting with his father when I made my leave. I left a message for him with his brother." I said, feeling the familiar regret sweep through me.

"Could it have been helped?" Èowyn asked.

I looked at her, confused.

"Could your love of him been helped?" Èowyn asked to clarify.

I shook my head with a chuckle. "If we ever visit Minas Tirith, and you meet them, you will see that it could not have been helped. I was younger than Faramir, but it was inevitable that our innocent love for each was to blossom into something deeper." I said.

"He must have been very handsome." Èowyn said with a little smirk. I laughed a little at this.

"Yes, he was. Both men were. Faramir was a little more delicate in his features than Boromir, but that came from spending his youth with his head in the books. Boromir had the brawn; Faramir had the brain." I said with a little laugh.

"I do hope to meet them someday." She said with a little longing sigh.

"Are you not betrothed?" I asked confused.

Most women of the court, at least in Gondor, were betrothed from the cradle, if not before then. Èowyn shook her head.

"When I was young, there was talk of my marrying Théodred. But we grew too close to consider it. It felt wrong, and my uncle won't make us marry someone we do not love." Èowyn said with a smile.

I smiled a little back. Èowyn looked at me questioningly for a short time, but then shook her head slightly and looked away. I questioned her look and she sighed and looked back at me.

"I remember when you first came here. You barely looked off the floor long enough to reply to a direct question. And even then, you would never look at any of us directly, as if we hurt your eyes if you did. And you never smiled. And even if you did, it was a dead smile that never reached your eyes. Now we can carry a full conversation, and you smile more." Èowyn said.

I looked thoughtfully at the fire for a moment. I nodded in her direction and then a thought struck me.

"Èomer said that he liked my smile." I said a little sad.

"What are you going to do about him?" Èowyn asked after a moment.

I looked at her. "What would you have me do? I love another, but I doubt I will ever see him again. And Èomer has confessed that he wishes to have my heart, which I'm not sure that I still have." I said with a defeated sigh.

Èowyn sighed as well. "If it matters, I would be proud to call you my sister." Èowyn said, reaching out and taking my hand.

"But I could never marry your brother. I am not of noble birth." I said in disbelief.

"I'm sure that my uncle could make an exception for his favorite nephew." Èowyn said with a sly smirk.

I looked at her with a half scolding, half jesting look, and we laughed. Then Èowyn went silent and pensive.

"I wish to check on Théodred." She said.

I nodded and I stood. We went to his room and found that healers were still tending to his wounds.

"My lady, we would only be in the way if we linger. I shall keep you company while we wait. Please send word when you have finished tending to his wounds so that Lady Èowyn may see her cousin." I said first to Èowyn, then to an apprentice healer that stood a little apart from the healers leaning over his bed.

The boy nodded and I took Èowyn by the shoulders.

"Let us get you something to eat. Neither of us have eaten since this morning." I said softly with a small smile.

Her face had gone white as a sheet, and she was frozen. But she nodded stiffly and let me guide her to the kitchens. The walk was a little long, because the kitchens were detached from the main hall. It prevented any fires that might start there from reaching the main hall. I sat her down at a small table that was in the room, and went about fixing her something to eat.

"He looks like he is on the door of death." Èowyn said after several minutes of silence.

"Théodred is strong. He will pull through." I said, trying to remain bright.

"You did not see his wounds. I fear for him." Èowyn said, shaking her head as if to remove the image from her mind.

"It is only right to fear for someone you care for. We will just have to wait for the outcome." I said with a soft smile.

I placed a plate of pie before her with a fork, and she smiled at me.

"This is not the time for proper meals. You only need comfort in this dark hour." I said with a laugh.

We both ate small bites of the food I could manage to find for what felt like hours. After we finished our meal, we returned to Èowyn's room.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: So I got a lot of reviews saying that you guys saw Boromir being Braedia's lover coming...I have to admit that I didn't really try hard to hide it. But let's move right into review commentary:**

**xXxFantasyAmorexXx: I hope that you'll continue to read even now that your question has been answered. This part that you're reading now is only 11 out of 45. There is a lot more to come.**

**Willow: All I have to say is: There must always be a Stark in Winterfeld.**

**TheLadyAranel: I'm glad you liked that chapter so much. I do follow the plot almost to the letter, so you are right to worry. But I'm considering a prequel where I let Boromir and Braedia be together. What say you to that idea?**

**So here's another chapter. I'll try to get another one up toward the middle of the week. As always, if you review, I will take the time to respond to it. So please let me know how you feel.**

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><p>The next two days were tense in the Golden Hall. I found that I was spending all of it by the fire with Èowyn. I would sometimes run to the kitchen to get us meals, but it happened very rarely. We were waiting for news of Théodred, but very little came. I instructed some of the apprentices to come to Èowyn and tell of any new developments, but it was always the same. He had a fever, and it was not breaking. He had lost much blood, so it was just a matter of time before the body recovered. Èowyn rarely slept, and only drifted off for moments at a time before jerking back to consciousness. We sat by the fire, and tried to keep each other awake by telling stories, but those always ended with one of us in tears. I was glad for the distraction of Èowyn's grief so I did not have to face mine just yet. Something in my heart felt different now that I knew that Èomer had feelings for me. I had felt that Boromir had been slipping from my mind, and he was being replaced with Èomer, but I could not help but to cling to any hope that I might see Boromir again. Time passed slowly, but I was glad to have Èowyn's company, and I was almost certain she was glad to have mine.<p>

On the morning of the third day, I was waiting by Èowyn's fireplace for her to return from her bath. I encouraged her to try to bathe, to wash the weary feelings from her limbs. She agreed, but only after some convincing. But as I was waiting, an apprentice came running into the room. The young boy had tears streaming down his face, and I could see the heartbreak in his eyes. I stood, one hand to my chest.

"Is he…?" I asked, unable to finish my sentence.

The apprentice shook his head and looked down at his feet, his shoulders gently shaking from the sobs. I swallowed hard. I looked off to my side, not really feeling anything. The outlook had not been pleasant, but I could not help but feel some loss over losing Théodred. He had grown to be like a brother to me.

"I will tell Lady Èowyn. You may go." I said, my voice thick as I dismissed the boy.

He nodded and started to leave. "He's still in his chambers, if the lady wants to say good-bye." He said, trying to put on a brave face.

"Good lad. Thank you." I said with a kind smile.

The boy nodded and left. I turned away from the door and tried to regain my composure. I knew that I would need to be strong for Èowyn. She and her cousin were always close, and I knew that she would need someone to lean on in this terrible time. I straightened my shoulders as I heard the door open behind me and I turned to face Èowyn.

"Let's get you dressed or you will catch your death of cold." I said quickly.

She looked at me questioningly, but agreed all the same. She looked to weary to try to argue with me. I dressed her in a beautiful white dress with golden accents, one of her favorites.

"Is there a special occasion?" Èowyn asked with a hollow laugh.

I felt another tear leak out of my eyes, and she turned to look at me. Her half smile faded as she saw my tears.

"Théodred…" I managed to get out before I dissolved into tears.

Her face drained of color and she ran from the room. I followed behind her quickly. She practically sprinted to Théodred's room, and hurried inside, collapsing into sobs by his bedside. I stood vigil outside of the door, letting her grieve in peace. There would come a time for me to feel his loss and say good-bye, but this was not the moment. I needed to be strong for her. Then I felt a presence by my side. I looked and practically leaped the length of the hall. Gríma had slid up from the shadows and was standing in the doorway. But he didn't seem to notice me. He was looking at Èowyn inside Théodred's room.

"Oh he must have died sometime in the night. What a tragedy for the king…to lose his only son and heir." Gríma said, his voice full of fake sincerity.

I almost went into the room, but I knew that Èowyn could handle herself. And I was standing right outside.

"I understand. His passing is hard to accept. Especially now that your brother has deserted you." Gríma went on after she didn't respond.

I felt my face flush in anger. He was the one who had him banished. He would have stayed by her side until his dying breath if he could have.

"Leave me alone snake." She shouted at him.

I could hear her feet on the stones, so she must have moved away from him.

"Oh, but you are alone. Who knows what you've spoken to the darkness...in the bitter watches of the night...when all your life seems to shrink. The walls of your bower closing in about you. A hutch to trammel some wild thing in." Gríma went on.

I felt myself freezing. I put my hands to my ears to block out his words. I could not listen to him. This was how he destroyed the king. I would not listen to that worm. Then suddenly, Èowyn rushed past me. I was about to run after her, but someone grabbed my wrist. I turned back and found that Gríma was standing very close to me.

"You will leave her. I will have you reassigned by tomorrow." Gríma said with venom in his voice.

I reacted without thinking and slapped him hard across the face.

"I will do no such thing. You have no authority over me. I will not abandon Èowyn." I said, roughly shaking him off of me.

"You will learn to curb your tongue, or you will find yourself in the Wilds again." Gríma said. I was about to respond, but a guard came from the main hall.

"There are travelers here. Gandalf Greyhame is one of them." He said.

"Make sure to take their weapons. Especially the staff." Gríma said to the man.

He looked at me one last time before rushing out to the main hall. I sighed in relief, but then went to find Èowyn. She should be there to meet the travelers. I took the back corridors to avoid going through the main hall and I found her coming out of her room.

"There are travelers here. Go to meet them." I said softly.

Then suddenly we heard commotion coming from the main hall. We quickly went to find that the travelers were in a fist fight with Gríma's guards.

"Théoden…son of Thengel…too long have you sat in the shadows." An old man in a grey cloak said loudly over all of the noise.

Èowyn stood off to the side, frozen by what we saw. Théoden was sagging in his throne before the old man.

"Harken to me!" The old man said as he reached the base of the steps leading to the throne.

Théoden jumped, and turned to look at the old man.

"I release you from this spell." The old man said, raising his hand.

Théoden started laughing a laugh that I knew that he did not usually make. It was a rattling laugh, and it chilled me to the bone.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey." Théoden said, almost mockingly.

The old man, Gandalf, stood up straight and cast off his grey cloak. His bright white robes let off a bright white light that caused me to flinch and not be able to look at him directly. Théoden was thrown against the back of his throne and moaned.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf said, thrusting his white staff toward Théoden.

The king was thrown back against his throne again. Èowyn then found her feet and ran to help her uncle. I was right behind her, but one of the travelers, a man with dark hair and dark clothes, stopped her and told her to wait. I stood a little ways back from the group, but I noticed that the other travelers were an Elf and a dwarf. If my king hadn't been in trouble, I would have been amazed. But as it stood, I was too concerned for Théoden to take much notice of the men.

"If I go, Théoden dies." The king said, struggling against the power that was forcing him back.

I was confused by this, but I felt it was not the time to question.

"You did not kill me…you will not kill him." Gandalf said forcefully.

Gandalf was slowly making his way up the short set of stairs with his staff thrust forward.

"Rohan is mine." Théoden said in a voice that sounded nothing like his usual voice.

He tried to attack Gandalf, but Gandalf thrust his staff forward again, and Théoden fell back into his throne, weary. He moaned and started to fall forward. But Èowyn broke free of the man's grasp to run to him. The man looked behind him and noticed me and started to look away, but then looked back confused. I flushed for a minute under his curious gaze, but then I looked at the forward.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." Gandalf said.

I looked back to the king and saw that all traces of his rapid aging were gone. He looked like he needed a good shave, but he looked very similar to the king that welcomed me into his home all those winters ago. I felt happy tears welling in my eyes as I watched the king stand. Èowyn was at his side helping him, but I could tell that Théoden was finding his strength again.

"Dark have been my dreams of late." Théoden said, looking out into the hall.

He held up his hand and looked at it as if he were amazed.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword." Gandalf said softly.

One of the guards brought forward the sword, as if they had been waiting for the command, and held it before the king. Théoden drew it slowly, and Èowyn smiled brightly. I could not help my own smile. It was nice to see an easy smile on her face again. Théoden looked at his sword, and then a look came across his features. He looked over to the dwarf, and I saw that Gríma was being held down by said dwarf's foot. Théoden nodded to his guards and they picked the man up and dragged him bodily from the room. Théoden followed at a quick walk, as did all of the company in the room. I fell into step with Èowyn, and found that I was being accompanied by the Elf and the dwarf. We watched as Gríma was thrown down the front steps of the Golden Hall. I could not help but feel a sense of happiness spread through me as I heard him cry out. Théoden walked down the stairs after Gríma, his sword still drawn.

"I only ever…served you, my lord." The worm pleaded as he crawled down the stairs away from Théoden.

"Your leechcraft…would have me crawling on all fours like a beast." Théoden said, angrier than I had ever seen him before in my time at the Golden Hall.

I was honestly terrified. Èowyn, myself, the Elf and the dwarf stopped to watch the scene from one of the ledges surrounding Meduseld.

"Send me not from your sight." Gríma pleaded desperately.

I saw Théoden raise his sword above his head. I felt my chest swell with satisfaction, pleased that the king was going to slay the man that caused him so much harm. But then the man that had traveled to Edoars with Gandalf rushed forward and stopped Théoden.

"No, my lord!" he said loudly.

The man said some words that I couldn't quite hear, but Théoden lowered his sword. The man tried to reach down and offer Gríma help off of the ground, but Gríma only spat into his palm. The man backed away and Gríma pushed himself off the ground and fled through the crowd.

"Hail Théoden King!" one of the king's men cried.

The crowd that had gathered quickly fell to one knee, and the motion traveled up the steps to where Èowyn and I stood. We merely bowed our heads in respect. Théoden was looking around the crowd, as if someone was missing. My heart clenched as I remembered who indeed was missing.

"Théodred? Where is my son?" the king questioned.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Well, I don't have much to say. Just keep reviewing, and I'll keep writing. I'm almost done with the second portion of The Isilme Chronicles, so hopefully I'll be done before the end of the semester. After this is done, which would you like to see more: a Boromir/Braedia prequel, or a Legolas prequel? Let me know in reviews and maybe it'll get my inspired to write that choice. So now for review commentary:  
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**i am ninja159: Thank you for your first review. I plan on publishing the rest of this story (at least 45 parts), so this is going to be going for a while.**

**Willow: I totally agree. Jon is my favorite "Stark". I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Let me know if Braedia's reaction is believable, especially her recovery.**

**brandibuckeye: Thank you for your first review. I hope you'll stick around for the rest of the story. It's only going to get more interesting from here.**

**I'm thinking about starting a little thing where I'll read stories and recommend them here for you (I get a lot of traffic, a lot more than I thought I would, not that I'm complaining). Leave me a review if you want me to read your story, and if I like it, I'll give you a shout out. Now on with the story.  
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><p>Théoden looked up to Èowyn and she held out her hand to beckon him to her. He quickly ran to her and they moved into the hall. The guards sent everyone back to their duties. I turned and saw that the dwarf and elf were staring at me strangely.<p>

"As unusual as this may be, welcome to Edoras, my lords." I said with a curtsy, breaking the tense silence between us.

"A most unusual greeting indeed." The dwarf muttered and I could not help but chuckle.

"I would normally allow the lady of the house to escort you in and find you lodging but…" I said, trailing off as I looked to where the doors to the Golden Hall were still wide open.

"I'm sure she will not mind." Gandalf said coming up beside us with the man.

Now that I had a closer look at him, I recognized him as the man we called Mithrandir in Gondor. I half smiled at him.

"I'm sure she will not, Mithrandir. If you would please follow me." I said.

"Mithrandir? That is not a name I usually hear outside of Gondor." He said questioningly.

"One does not come across Gondorians outside of Gondor, either. And yet here I stand." I said jokingly.

"I knew that you had a strange look for one of the plains. Now that you reveal that you are not of Rohan, all is made clearer." The man said.

"Yes, my lord…" I said, trailing off in a question so I may learn his name.

"Oh yes. I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm." Aragorn said, motioning to his two companions.

I looked at Aragorn for a moment, and his name stirred something in my mind. I had heard his name somewhere, but I could not place it.

"And what is your name, my lady?" the dwarf, Gimli, asked when I said nothing.

"Braedia, daughter of Deonvan, master dwarf." I said, startled into speech from my thoughts.

"Braedia?" Legolas asked curiously, speaking at last.

I nodded. We reached the guest hall, a large room off of the main hall.

"This is where we will give you lodgings. Others will be coming shortly to lead you to the bath houses, if you wish to wash away the worries of your travels. You are guests at Meduseld, so you will not want for anything. Now I must depart and see to my lady. Supper will be served in an hour." I said, giving the men another curtsy.

I walked quickly from the room and closed the door softly behind me. I could not reason why, but the look of these men made me uncomfortable, as if they knew something about me that I did not. I walked to Théodred's chambers and found that Èowyn was standing outside the closed door. I could faintly hear Théoden sobbing on the other side. Èowyn had tears of her own streaming down her face.

"The funeral is set for tomorrow." She said, her voice hoarse.

I nodded somberly. "I escorted the travelers to the guest hall and helped them settle in." I said softly.

"Thank you. I appreciate your thoughtfulness." She said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I half smiled at her, and took her hand from my shoulder and looped it around my arm.

"There is little you can do for the king now. Come and prepare to greet your guests for the evening meal." I said with an encouraging smile.

She nodded as I led her down the halls to her room. She quickly rinsed her face and arms with cool water, and I could tell that it did a little bit of good. Her eyes were less red and the tear tracks were gone from her cheeks. I sat her down and set about brushing the tangles in her long hair caused by the wind.

"What are the names of our guests?" Èowyn deadpanned.

"The wizard is Gandalf, once Grey but now the White. In my city, we call him Mithrandir. He travels with a man, Aragorn son of Arathorn; an elf, Legolas of the Woodland Realm; and a dwarf, Gimli son of Gloin." I explained for her.

I gently twisted two locks of hair back away from her face and secured them with a pin to the back of her head.

"They look weary." I said in passing.

"They look at you strangely. It is as if they have seen your face in a dream." Èowyn said, almost ignoring my statement.

"That they do. I wish I knew why." I said softly.

I smoother her hair and had her stand up. "Discuss it with them after supper. I wish to go to my uncle. Go and prepare yourself for the meal. You shall join us again." Èowyn said touching my curly locks gently.

She smiled and then swept past me. I looked into Èowyn's looking glass, and found that she was right. My hair had become unruly from the wind and I, too, had eyes rimmed in red. I went to my room, quickly rinsed my face and arms, and looked into my own looking glass. I wore one of my simple brown dresses, and I realized that I had not changed since the day Théodred was brought to Edoras, and Èomer was banished.

I slipped off the dress and changed into one of my slightly more elaborate dresses. It was a dark green linen with a little gold embroidery around the cuffs of the large sleeves and the collar that laid against my neck. I brushed my hair until the ringlets curled perfectly and I found that the time had come for supper. I went to the Great Hall and saw that the travelers had found their way to the table. The head of the table was empty, as was Èowyn's seat. I went to the end of the table and sat in the empty seat beside Legolas and across from Gimli. Aragorn sat on the elf's other side and Mithrandir sat between Èowyn's empty place and Gimli. Èowyn then came from the hall leading to Théodred's chambers and her face was drawn.

"My uncle will not joining us this meal." She said as she sat in her seat.

The servants moved to serve the food. Legolas ate gracefully, just as he moved gracefully and spoke gracefully. The dwarf at greedily, and I could not help but smile. It must have been some time since their last hot meal.

"So what brings you to Edoras? Surely you must not have joined company just to free my uncle?" Èowyn said as the second course arrived.

Legolas looked at Aragorn sharply and Aragorn looked at Mithrandir. The wizard seemed to consider something for a moment before nodding.

"No, my lady. We did not come only to heal Théoden King. Our company, which was more numerous when we first set out, came from Rivendell." Aragorn explained softly.

I looked up from my plate suddenly; Faramir often spoke of the Elven haven in the mountains of the north.

"How many were in your party, and are we to be expecting all of them?" Èowyn tried to joke.

The faces of the travelers darkened.

"Nine of us set out from Rivendell, and you should not be expecting any more, at least for now. Two of our company set out on their own road toward our original destination. One fell in a great battle. We three," Aragorn motioned to the elf and the dwarf, "set out after two of our companions that had been taken captive. But they have found their way into safe hands. That was when we reunited with Gandalf and made our way here." He continued.

Èowyn nodded and returned to her food. I looked at the travelers and their faces were shadowed with sorrow. I wanted to know more, but it was not my place to ask. Legolas seemed to sense my gaze, and turned to give me a charming smile. I blushed a little and turned my face back to my food. We finished the meal in silence and shortly after it was finished, Èowyn took her leave to be with her uncle and plan the funeral. I went to my chambers and returned with some sewing so that I may sit with the men for a moment while they rested in the great hall.

"You hail from Minas Tirith, am I correct?" Aragorn asked after a moment.

I looked up and found that he was looking at me. "Yes, my lord, you are correct." I answered and I turned back to my sewing.

"How does one of Minas Tirith find refuge in Edoras? Surely the White City was home enough." Aragorn said.

I looked up at him again. "I would have been content enough to dwell in the halls of the White Tower until my dying day. But I was banished some time ago. The King and his family have taken me in, and I serve the lady Èowyn." I said quickly.

Something in me would not allow my mind to rest. They were asking innocent questions, but something was ill at ease in my mind. Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other. Then Aragorn turned back to me.

"You said that you lived in the White Tower? Were you a noble?" Aragorn asked innocently.

"No, nothing of the sort, my lord. I was a chambermaid in the Steward's household." I said, feeling a little embarrassed. I looked back down to my sewing. My stitches had become uneven.

"Then you were acquainted with the Steward's family." Aragorn stated.

I sighed, growing impatient with their questioning. "If I may be so bold, my lord, but what concern of yours is the life of a servant?" I said a little heatedly.

Aragorn sighed and shook his head, looking down. Legolas stepped up to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

"We only ask, because a companion of ours often spoke of a woman from Gondor. A woman with mysterious green-grey eyes that served him. A woman whom he loved very dearly." Legolas said softly.

I clutched my sewing hard to my breast as I waited for him to continue speaking.

"We traveled with a man of Gondor: Boromir, son of Denathor." Legolas went on.

My heart could have burst with the joy that overflowed it from his words. Boromir had remembered me, and continued to love me despite these long years apart. I felt happy tears starting to form in my eyes, but then I looked at the faces of the men before me. They were darkened with shadows of sorrow, and I felt my own smile fading.

"Traveled, you say? Does he not still travel with you? Or did he go his own way?" I asked, hoping that there would be good news.

Aragorn stood and came to kneel before me. He took my hands in his, and I saw tears forming in his own eyes.

"I was bidden to tell you by he that he was sorry for every hurt that he caused you." Aragorn said in a voice almost above a whisper.

"But, my lord Aragorn, where is he?" I pressed, feeling something starting to wrap itself around my heart.

"He fell defending those who were later taken captive." Aragorn said.

I felt my heart pounding in my ears and images that I had long since pushed aside came to my mind again. My dream had not just been a dream. It had been the last moments of Boromir's life that I had witnessed. I cried out, and my body was wracked by the sobs. I felt my heart pounding painfully in my chest. I willed it to stop, for how could I continue in a world where Boromir no longer resided. I dropped my sewing and collapsed forward onto Aragorn's shoulder. He gathered me in his arms and allowed me to soak his tunic in my tears. He gently stroked my hair and whispered soothing words in my ear. I felt my tears slowing, and I pulled away from Aragorn. Legolas had come to stand beside us, and I sat back on my haunches away from Aragorn.

"Did he say anything else?" I asked, wishing only to know what my mind had not shown me.

"He asked you to remember him as he was, and he hoped that you would not close your heart, for he saw that you had a great capacity for love that he did not wish for you to squander." Aragorn said softly and slowly.

I nodded and I wiped the stray tears away from my face.

"Does his family know of his passing?" I asked, now thinking of Faramir, and unwillingly Denethor. Both men put great stock in Boromir, and his death would surely crush them.

"We had no time to bury his body properly, so we laid him in a boat and sent the boat over the falls on the Anduin." Legolas said heavily.

I nodded, relieved in the knowledge that they gave him some sort of funeral, if not the one he deserved, but the best they could manage. Anduin flowed through Gondor, so Boromir would return to the land of his fathers in time. I stood up and Aragorn stood with me.

"You are taking this news well, despite the earlier release of sorrow." Legolas asked confused.

"There has been much death around me as of late, my lord. And I could feel in my heart that I was never to see him again. But I held onto a vain hope. I could feel that he was lost to me the moment I set foot outside of Minas Tirith." I said softly.

"Did you not see him before you left?" Aragorn asked.

I shook my head. "We were in enough trouble as it stood. I could not let him earn more strife on my behalf." I said, bending to pick up my sewing.

"More strife?" Legolas questioned.

"Did he not tell you that it was my love of him that had me banished? Or did he stretch the truth like he always used to?" I asked, a little smile gracing my features.

"He did not tell us why you are banished. Only that his father had not seen reason and sent you away without a proper trial." Aragorn said.

"He was correct, but yes, I was banished because I was a servant in love with the heir to the Stewardship. But, my lord, I feel the need to rest. I must depart until tomorrow. Good night." I said with a curtsy.

They bowed and bid me good-night, though I could tell it was with misgivings that they let me leave. I went to my chambers and set my sewing down. Then I turned and went to Èowyn's chambers. I found that she had fallen asleep in her chair. I smiled softly and left the room. I was not strong enough to move her without waking her, and I did not have the heart to shake her awake. I turned and found that Théoden was standing behind me. I gasped and went into a hurried curtsy. Théoden bid me to stand and he looked at me for a while.

"I would have thought you would have left long ago. There is nothing holding you here." Théoden said, almost to himself.

I was confused, so I chose not to answer.

"Why did you stay?" Théoden asked.

"My lord, I stayed because Lady Èowyn bid me to." I said softly.

"You stayed merely because she asked?" Théoden asked, now confused.

"Yes, my lord. I could not abandon her in this dark time. There were moments when I was all she had, for Lord Èomer and Lord Théodred were often away from Edoras." I explained.

"You have been loyal to us, and I shall not forget that lightly, Braedia." Théoden said with a kind smile. He took me by the back of the head and bestowed a kiss onto my forehead.

"Thank you, my lord. But I would give my loyalty, nay my life, for any of the royal family. Pardon my frankness, but I think of you all as my own family now, and I have treated you as such." I said, a blush creeping onto my cheeks.

"And that means more than you know. I have come to ask you to stand by Èowyn's side tomorrow at the burial." Théoden said strongly.

My eyes widened, and I could not help the surprised expression. It was tradition for the men closest to the deceased were to bear the body to the burial site, although in this case, his soldiers would bear him. His father would lead the procession down to the grave and then the women closest to the deceased would take the body from the men and place it in the grave. In the case of the royals, his nurse, his close friends and family would be there. I had expected to be near the grave, but never to help bury him.

"It would be an honor, my lord. But I cannot accept it. There must be another that could be in my place. Someone who was closer to Lord Théodred." I said softly.

"No, there is no other. Èowyn and I agree that it is only right." Théoden said, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Then I will be there, my lord." I said, consenting with a sigh.

"Thank you, Braedia." Théoden said, giving my shoulder a slight squeeze before departing.

I sighed and went back to my chambers. I changed out of my dress and slipped into my bed. I wept myself to sleep that night. I wept for the loss of Théodred. I wept for the loss of my beloved Boromir. But I also found myself weeping at the loss of Èomer, for it felt as if I had lost him as well.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: So I'm really happy with the response I'm getting from this story. All of the pleasant reviews and emails that I get saying that so many people are putting this story on alert feed my soul and keep me going. I know that every writer says this, and it sounds cheesy, but it's totally true for me. Without you guys, I would have no reason to write. Now that I'm tearing up, let's get to the review responses.**

**Willow: Thanks for looking out for that for me. I'm more worried about the parts coming up, so just keep an eye for anything that seems out of place or not right.**

**Certh: Thanks for coming back. You, honestly, are one of the best reviewers that I have. It's nice to have someone calling me on the carpet about my little details. As for the Gandalf/Mithrandir/White Rider debacle, I'm basing this story mostly on the movie-verse. I am pulling some details, like some lore elements and maybe some poems, directly from the universe that Prof. Tolkien created. My assumption that Mithrandir would be known by the citizens of Minas Tirith as the White Rider before Aragorn arrives comes from a scene in the Return of the King movie where Gandalf rides out to save the retreating soldiers from Osgiliath from the fell beasts and the Ringwraiths. A random citizen calls out "It's the White Rider!" and that is before Aragorn ever arrives at Minas Tirith. Now, it can also be assumed that the person made up the title seeing Mithrandir clothed in white, riding a white horse. But I'd like to assume that Gandalf and Shadowfax have been together before, hence the name "The White Rider". That's my logic, and I hope that it's not too far out there. **

**Hopefeather: Thank you for your first review of my story. I'm glad that you like it so much. Although, far be it from me to keep you from sleeping. I'll try to keep my posts to normal-people hours (between the hours of like 6AM EST and 10PM EST). That way, you'll never have to stay up to all hours of the night reading again. **

**brandibuckeye: Ah, if only things were so easy. She still has to deal with Èomer, and that's going to be so much fun. But no spoilers from me.**

**TheLadyAranel: I'm glad that you're like this story. I would like to clear something up, though. When I do write the next portion of the Isilme Chronicles, it will be a Boromir/Braedia story. However, I'm not the kind of writer that would alter Prof. Tolkien's world so drastically to allow my own agenda to come through. The Boromir/Braedia story would be a prequel, most likely starting somewhere around Braedia's birth and continuing until Braedia is banished. And as far as a Legolas story goes, it would NOT be a Legolas/Braedia story, because I already get into the nitty-gritty of their relationship in the next part (no spoilers, but I am super excited to let you guys read it. The anticipation is killing me, which makes me write faster). If I did a Legolas story, it would be Legolas's back story, talking mostly about his childhood and his relationship with his wife (small spoiler, but you'll read about that in the chapter after next).**

**Well, that was more extensive than I thought it would be. Also, I'd like to give a quick shout out to the person I'm beta-ing for (there's got to be a technical term for that. Beta-ee? Let me know if you know of such a term). WillowDamon17. Her story is called Head of Heels, and it's a Legolas/OC and Èomer/OC fic. It's good, and it's only getting better (not to toot my own horn or anything). She gave me a shout-out, so that was to return the favor (and the story deserves some attention too). Now that all of that is out of the way, let the story continue.**

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><p>The next morning, I awoke early, and took a bath. I washed all of the tears from the previous night away. I knew that I had to be strong today, so I was glad that I had wept myself dry the previous night. After I had bathed and my hair was dry, I pulled on a dress that I had found laid over the back of one of my chairs during the night. I had also found that a beautiful hair comb had been placed on my desk, and I styled my hair so the hair comb held back half of my hair.<p>

I picked up the dress and found it to be made of heavy velvet. It was black and was trimmed in silver that matched the hair comb. The dress fit me nearly perfectly, though it was a slight bit too broad in the shoulder. Everywhere else, however, the dress draped over me and fell off of my hips and arms perfectly. There was also a black linen veil that I wrapped around my head. I looked in my looking glass, and if I hadn't known that I was looking at myself, I would have thought I was looking at a great lady.

I sighed and shook my head, knowing that it could not be true, despite my deepest wishes. I walked swiftly from the room, and I found that Èowyn was awake and dressed and sitting by her fire. She stood when I entered and smiled as I entered.

"Do you like the dress?" she asked as I sat her down to style her hair.

"It fits wonderfully my lady, thank you. I cannot imagine where it came from, especially when it was accompanied by such a beautiful comb," I said softly.

I braided her hair and twisted it so the whole piece sat just above the nape her neck. She handed me a golden circlet that I placed into her hair. She stood and looked at me with a ruefully smile.

"'Tis one of mine. It is a little broad in the shoulder, but that cannot be helped," She said, looking me over and adjusting the dress a little.

She herself wore a beautiful navy blue and gold dress, with a neckline that was beautifully embroidered collar. My own dress had a similar collar, but it was embroidered in silver and was significantly less ornate.

"My lady, I have a black dress of my own that I could have worn. You did not have to give this to me," I said humbly.

"You are to be at my side. I wanted to thank you. For everything you've done," She said, putting her hands on my shoulders. She had tears starting to form in her eyes, and I could feel my own starting to pool.

"My lady, there is nothing to thank me for. I would have done everything again, and a thousand times more," I said, trying to get her to not be upset.

"I think you've earned the right to call me by my given name, Braedia. You are like family," Èowyn said, pulling me into an embrace.

"My lady, please," I said, feeling a tear leak down my cheek.

I pulled away from her and wiped it from my face. She gave me a stern look, and I could not help to roll my eyes.

"Èowyn, please. I think the time is drawing close for us to go to the burial site," I said.

She nodded and she wrapped the cloak that lying over her chair around her shoulders. There was also a black veil that she brought up over the back of her head. She instantly sobered and we walked down the plot where Théodred was to be laid to rest. I stood beside Èowyn in the bright sunlight, and I found myself growing more irritable as time passed. How could the sun shine on such a dark day? More people gathered and they lined the path all the way from the Golden Hall down the grave.

A hush fell over the crowd suddenly, and I looked. I could not see clearly, but I knew that from the solemn hush that Théodred had been brought forth from Meduseld. I looked up the hill in anticipation. I looked back to Èowyn and found that she was staring straight ahead, clutching her veil in the rough winds that buffeted us. My own veil fluttered around me, but I had it secured tight enough not to worry.

I looked up again and saw that Théodred's party had exited the wall of the city in a slow march and were making their way to grave. Théodred was borne aloft by six guards from the Golden Hall. Théoden was behind him, and he was followed by Gandalf, who was followed by Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. When the guards reached the place where I stood in line with several other women, they lowered Théodred from their shoulders and passed the body. Èowyn took a step back from us and began to sing.

"_Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended_ _giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost. Bealo__..." _

Théodred was passed along the women, and though I never bore the full weight of him by myself, I could feel his weight crushing my heart. I looked at his face, so cold and grey now but once shining with life; his hands that were clasped at his breast, and held a small bouquet of flowers, and remembered how they had once played with my hair quizzically or grasped mine as we ran through the fields. He looked so valiant in his armor, and I could feel the tears burning as I passed his litter along to the women by my side and into his final resting place.

After the body was interred, Théoden moved to stand in front of it. I lingered with Èowyn as many came forward to place their own small bouquets of flowers in front of the stone door that sealed the tomb. Soon all those who remained were only the royal family, myself, and the guests.

Then a thought struck me: not all of the royal family was here. Èomer had not been summoned back to Edoras. At the thought, my heart clenched, and I felt fresh tears sliding down my cheeks. Now that Boromir had been taken from me, I felt Èomer's loss anew, and it hurt all the worse. I kept my tears silent, for now was not the time to weep for him. I felt a hand on my arm, and I turned from the grave. Legolas was standing behind me.

"We are departing for the hall." He said softly.

Though I had not seen the elf shed a tear, I saw his grief in his eyes. I nodded and he offered me his arm. On any other day, I would have refused the escort, but I felt weary with sorrow, and gladly accepted it. I linked arms with him and I was surprised with how strong he felt, despite the looseness of the contact. We walked a few paces behind Aragorn, who was escorting Èowyn, and Gimli. Théoden had lingered at the grave and Gandalf stayed with him. The sun was shifting, casting a shadow over the cemetery.

"Death is a new experience for me." Legolas said softly when we were about halfway up the hill.

I looked at him curiously, but then the realization came over me. He was an elf, immortal, so his people did not die very often. I should have expected it.

"I have lost many close friends within these last weeks, and I've come to realize what it means to die." Legolas continued.

I nodded, feeling like I was a mere spectator to his musings.

"I'm sorry if my words bring you sorrow." Legolas said quickly, almost as an afterthought.

"No, it is quite alright. I've grown used to loss and talking about loss." I said, shaking my head.

"How?" Legolas asked.

We had slowed our pace significantly and we were trailing behind. I had to think a moment on his question, because I had never been asked it before.

"I think of those I need to be strong for. When I lost my father, I had to be strong for my mother. When I lost my mother, I had to be strong so I could continue with my duties. Here, I've had to stay strong for Lady Èowyn." I said softly, feeling like I was the one musing now.

"Has anyone ever been strong for you?" Legolas asked.

I swallowed and looked up at him. "Boromir. And sometimes his brother, Faramir." I said.

Legolas nodded and was silent as he thought on what I said. I smiled to myself. I was enjoying Legolas's company. He did not try to fill the silences with unneeded talk and seemed to be perfectly comfortable just to stand in thought by himself or in a crowd. He was attractive, but I could not find the room in my heart for any romantic feelings. He looked down and smiled back at me.

"If you wish it, I could be strong for you." He said as we neared the Golden Hall.

I looked at him curiously; I was unsure of what he meant.

"You can only be strong for so long. If you need someone to be strong for you, I can do that." He said to clarify.

I could almost think that he was kidding, but the sincere look in his eyes told me otherwise.

"I would appreciate that." I said after a moment.

He smiled a little wider, but then looked up from my face with a strange look on his face. He looked around off toward the cemetery. I looked too, and I saw a little black spot on one of the little rises near it.

"What is it?" I asked, unsure of what we were looking at.

"It's a horse with two children on its back." Legolas said, barely squinting.

Then I saw a small black spot move from near the top of the larger black spot to the ground.

"One of them just fell. They look exhausted." Legolas said, compassion in his tone.

"King Théoden and Gandalf are gathering them. They will most likely bring them here. We should tell the others." Legolas said, looking down at me.

I nodded and I unlinked my arm from his. We went quickly to the Golden Hall. We found that Gimli and Aragorn were sitting at a table. Gimli was just beginning to eat and Aragorn was just finishing up. Èowyn was sitting nearby. She stood as Legolas and I entered the hall.

"There are two children out in the field. They look tired and ragged. Gandalf and the king are bringing them here." Legolas said was we approached.

"Braedia, go to the kitchen and get some food for them. I will prepare a room for them here." Èowyn said sternly.

I nodded and sped off toward the kitchen. I managed to get a small pot of stew and a few bowls before I heard some commotion in the main hall. I brought the soup out to one of the other tables in the main hall and motioned for the children, who had just entered with the king and Mithrandir, to sit and eat. They sat gratefully before each bowl I served. Théoden moved to his throne and Gandalf sat in the seat beside him.

The children ate and Èowyn came out to talk to them. She knelt beside the little girl with her arms around her shoulders. She spoke in soft Rohiric to them, and they spoke so quickly that I could barely understand what they were saying. I decided to make myself useful and went to get a blanket for them. I could see that they were shaking, whether from fear, cold or exhaustion, I could not determine.

I took one of the heavier wool blankets from a linen room and brought it back to Èowyn. She nodded thankfully and I moved to sit beside Aragorn at the table. He had begun to smoke a pipe, and was watching the whole proceedings with grave interest. Legolas stood against one of the columns, and he nodded to me as I sat down. I realized that I was still wearing my veil, so I took it off and laid it beside me on the bench. At length, Èowyn sighed and looked at the king.

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><p><em>Translations:<em>

_ Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost. Bealo... :_ An evil death has set forth the noble warrior A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels in Meduseld that he is no more, to his lord dearest and kinsmen most belover. An evil death..

A Note on the funeral: The rituals that I based the funeral off of come from a comment Peter Jackson made in the Two Towers Extended edition commentary. He mentioned that one of the Nordic cultures (Saxon, Anglo-Saxon, Norse, I forget which exactly) had this style of funeral. It is portrayed in the films, but I just thought I'd give a little bit of a history lesson.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I'm just going to just straight into review responses because there were a lot of them. **

**Certh: Your point has been taken, and I changed it to remove the "White Rider" comment. I have no problem admitting when I am wrong, and I thank you for fighting with me about it. Not many people would. I try to keep the original film canon in the story as much as I can, but there are moments that I have to change certain things, of course. I worry sometimes that I might be interfering a little too much, but I'm glad that I'm doing it right.**

**Loslanna: Thank you for your first review. I plan on continuing this story, though I'm debating on how much further I'm going to go. I hope you'll stick around for all of it.**

**Willow: Don't get your hopes up for a LegolasxBraedia relationship. As much as I'd like to, it would just complicate things too much (for now).**

**jaejoong1: Thank you for your first review. I've been told that I have become really good at the whole cliffhanger thing (some would say too good), but I hope that I don't leave you hanging for too long. **

**brandibuckeye: I try to keep things classy as much as possible. **

**Also, I'd like to give a shout out to TheLadyAranel. She has just started writing a Lord of the Rings Fanfiction called "Mithrenniel, Daughter of Gondor". There is only one chapter so far, but it's very good. So if you wouldn't mind popping over there for a minute after you're done here, it would make me happy. She's been a loyal reader, and I like to pay it forward when I can.**

**If you'd like me to take a look at your story, I'll gladly do it. Just send me a PM, and I'll let you know if I will feature your story in an upcoming chapter. NOW ON WITH THE STORY!**

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><p>At length, Èowyn sighed and looked at the king.<p>

"These children were sent here by their mother to raise an alarm after their village was attacked. They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the Wild Men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot, and tree," She said. She unfurled the blanket and wrapped it around the children.

"Where is Mama?" the little girl asked insistently, but Èowyn shushed her and encouraged her to eat more.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent now that he is driven by fear of Sauron," Gandalf said, briefly motioning to the children.

I watched as Théoden listened to Gandalf. He was taking in the words, but I could not tell if he was really listening to him. He looked old and weary again, and I wanted to rush forward and comfort him. But I stayed silent and watched.

"Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children," Gandalf said a little more compassionately.

He put his hand on the arm of Théoden's throne. The motion caused a look of mistrust to cloud Théoden's features, and I knew his mind was back in the days that Gríma had done such a motion.

"You must fight," Gandalf insisted.

Théoden looked down, and I could see a look of hard concentration on his face.

"You have 2000 good men riding north as we speak. Èomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king," Aragorn said on the heels of Gandalf's words.

I felt my heart throb painfully at the mention of Èomer's name. Now that I knew that Boromir was truly lost to me, I felt significant regret at the way I treated him in our last meeting. I should not have said those words to him. He most likely hated me for them, and I could not blame him if he did. And yet, I could not help but to have a vain hope that he might still think of me. These men had come across him, so maybe he gave them a message for me and they just have not found the time to tell me. I would have to ask later if he mentioned me in their meeting.

Théoden stood up and walked halfway across the room. "They will be 300 leagues from here by now. Èomer cannot help us," Théoden said, his voice sounding dejected.

Gandalf stood and tried to talk again but Théoden spoke over his attempt.

"I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war," The king said sternly.

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not," Aragorn said, a little stubborn.

The king turned to him with an angry look. "Last I looked, Théoden not Aragorn was king of Rohan," Théoden said, his tone biting.

_King_, I thought.

And then the thought hit me like a bolt of lightning. Aragorn, son of Arathron. I could have kicked myself for forgetting. When Faramir and I would go to the libraries, Faramir would pull down a massive text. It was the book of genealogies for the nobles of Gondor. Faramir would often look down Isildur's line, and show me how the Steward's came to have rule of the country.

But then he would show me a separate text that was more hidden that showed how the line was not broken, but that the heirs had chosen to go into exile. I could see the page clear as day in my memory. The rest of the names were written in meticulous and neat calligraphy. But at the very bottom, one name was scrawled in sloppy, almost hasty, script, as if the mention of this man was just an afterthought. _Aragorn_. He was the Chieftain of what was left of the Dúndedain Rangers of the north, and he was heir to the throne of Gondor.

I looked at Aragorn now, and I could almost see the hints at Gondorian features. His eyes were strange, but he did have blood from other lines, so it was reasonable to think that he could have different features. I did not know if he could sense my gaze, but I looked away so not to call attention to it. I would most definitely have to speak with him later.

"Then what is the king's decision?" Gandalf asked with a resigned sigh.

Théoden looked around for a long moment. "We shall go to Helm's Deep. We leave at dawn tomorrow," Théoden said quickly before storming off.

I sighed and looked at Èowyn curiously. She was shaking her head. I would have to find time on the road to speak to Aragorn.

The rest of the day, the city was a buzz with activity. Everyone was preparing to leave, and the residents of the Golden Hall were no exception. I spent much of my remaining hours at Èowyn's side, except for when she bid me to go with the healers to help prepare the carts for transporting the sick and those who could not walk. At the end of the day, I fell asleep as soon as my head touched my pillow. It only felt like I had been asleep for a few minutes when there was pounding at my door. I knew that everyone was being roused to begin preparations. I stood and splashed my face with water. I went to Èowyn's room, knowing that I had to help her prepare before I began my own preparations.

When I entered her room, she was flying through her drawers and wardrobe, as if she were searching for something she could not find. She spotted me and looked relieved for a moment before continuing her search.

"I need simpler clothes. We are traveling and the road is long and hard. This is not the hour for courtly dresses," She said sternly as soon as I had shut the door.

"My lady, you have a few plain dresses of your own," I said, moving to her wardrobe.

I pulled out a simple blue dress, and found a brown linen overdress and a corset to go under the overdress. I also pulled out her brown coat that was lined with fur. I held them up and she consented. I dressed her quickly.

"My lady, I have to prepare to leave myself. May I meet you in the stables to prepare the horses?" I asked after she was dress.

"Yes, but do not delay," She said, her voice a little anxious. She was so distracted that she did not chastise me for not referring to her by her given name.

I nodded and quickly left the room. I went to my own room and opened one of the drawers. I withdrew my old clothes, the ones I had first worn when I arrived. I had repaired the places where the fabric had grown thin and worn. I slipped into the black hose and pulled on the black breeches. I pulled a grey-green tunic over my head and then a darker green jerkin over that. The tunic was light-weight, but the jerkin was thick and kept me warm. I slipped into my soft leather boots and pulled them so they were tight around my calves. I pulled out my belt and my father's sword and put them on quickly. I had grown a little around the waist since the last time I wore the belt, but not by much. I put on my quiver and bow, securing them tightly across my chest. Lastly, I wrapped my dark green cloak around my shoulders and looked in the mirror. If it hadn't been for all of the experience I had gone through since arriving, I would have sworn that this was my first day in Edoras. I quickly brushed my hair and threw it up high, securing it with a strip of leather. I found my satchel and packed a few essential items like my brush (I was determined never to be without one again; the nightmare of untangling my hair dictated that choice), extra fletching and tips for my arrows, my sharpening stone for my sword as well as a towel to clean it. I threw my satchel over my shoulder, and took one last glance around my room. I quickly left before I found myself lost in memory.

I marched quickly out to the stable and went to saddle my horse. Narmírë looked at me strangely, and I chuckled.

"I know I'm wearing weapons. I usually don't, do I?" I said, petting her nose a little.

She whinnied a little, but I brushed her down and saddled her anyway. I vaguely noticed that a horse was acting spooked, but I had no time to take care of my own horse and calm another. I went to prepare Èowyn's horse, but found that she had already done so and was now looking at the source of the racket in the barn. Aragorn was speaking softly in Elvish to the horse, and I sighed. I could catch small bits of his speech but I found that I was lost when he started speaking rapidly.

I turned back to Narmírë, and threw some saddlebags across her back. I left and went to the storerooms to gather some food for the journey. I was able to slip past most of the crowds, and grabbed a few apples, a loaf of bread, and some dried fruits and meats. I went back to the stables and found that Aragorn had moved on to take care of his own horse. Èowyn was standing next to my stall with her horse, waiting for me.

"Oh good, you had the forethought to consider provisions," Èowyn said after she started a moment.

She had not seen me armed in some years. I nodded and split the food between our saddle bags. I led Narmírë out of the stable, following Èowyn and Aragorn fell into step beside me.

"You are heavily armed for a lady-in-waiting," He commented.

"I lived in the Wilds for some time before I ever came here. I had to learn how to use a bow and sword," I said with a smirk.

"Indeed," Aragorn said distantly.

We mounted our horses and Èowyn turned to us.

"Join your uncle, my lady. I will be there in a moment," I said.

I looked at Aragorn as she rode to the head of the column. _"Amin cenlle, aran en' Gondor,"_ I said softly in Elvish.

He looked at me, quite confused. "How do you…?" he asked, still trying to puzzle it out.

"Those of Gondor are familiar with the line, and its members, Aragorn. Why did you hide?" I asked, knowing that every Gondorian would want to know the answer.

"I was not ready," Aragorn said after a moment.

"Are you now?" I asked seriously.

He looked at me, and shook his head. After a second, I felt a shock ripple through me. I could not believe the words had come out of my mouth. It was not my place to question him about such things.

"My apologizes, my lord. I will ask no more on this subject," I said, looking down.

I kicked Narmírë's side and rode her up to Èowyn's side at the head of the column. I was shortly joined on my other side by Legolas, who bore Gimli on the back of the saddle. He looked at me curiously. I blushed, knowing that he probably overheard my exchange with Aragorn. I shook my head, but he did not press me. Théoden led his people out of Edoras and toward the mountains.

When we were about a mile from the city, Théoden turned and looked at the procession behind him, and the city we were leaving behind. I looked too, and found that my heart was saddened with the thought of leaving the city. It had become like home. Then Èomer's words came floating back to my mind.

_I know I will be coming back…even this darkness must pass._

I sighed and looked down. _Yes, Èomer. This darkness must pass. We will return,_ I thought to myself as I turned Narmírë away from Edoras.

I rode up to Legolas and Gimli and fell into step with them.

"Why does a lady like yourself need to carry weapons?" Gimli asked after he had greeted me.

"You never know what dangers may be out there. Another sword would not hurt if we had to face them," I said with a smirk.

He laughed and agreed.

"Are you skilled with them?" Legolas asked.

I gave a look of mock insult. "My lord, I do not wear these items because I enjoy their weight or because I feel they match my eyes. Of course I have skill with them. It may not be as much skill as yourself, but I do have it," I said with as much fake hurt as I could muster.

Legolas stumbled over his words for a moment, trying to amend his error to my feelings, but I laughed at his efforts.

"Come now, my lord, I was jesting," I said.

"Please call me Legolas, my lady," He said.

I laughed again. "I will as long as you call me Braedia," I said with a smirk.

He smirked back and we agreed.

"How long is the road to Helm's Deep?" Gimli grumbled.

He shifted on the horse's back, and I could tell he was uncomfortable. We had been walking for some time now, and I knew that a rider's most comfortable place was in the saddle.

"It is a long road, and I am sure that we have some way to go yet, Master Dwarf," I said.

He sighed and told Legolas to stop. I also stopped and watched as the dwarf shimmied down the rump of the horse and onto the ground.

"I'd rather walk than sit astride that animal for another moment," He grumbled.

"You legs will grow weary, my friend," Legolas said with a jesting smile.

"Then I will find another seat when that happens. But for now, I will walk. You two may ride on if you please," Gimli said with a gruff sigh.

We laughed and moved into a trot.

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><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_Amin cenlle, aran en' Gondor_: I see you, King of Gondor. (Sort of cryptic, but hey, it works)

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><p><em>P.S.- I'd like to give a huge thanks to everyone that has read this story. We recently just hit the 5,000 hits mark, and that make me so grateful for all of my readers. Without you guys, I wouldn't be writing this story.<em>


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Thanks to everyone that has been reading this story. We are finishing up the first third of the story (literally, not as far as plot goes; this is the literal end of the first trimester of the story because this is part 15 out of 45). So let's just jump into review responses.**

**Certh: Thank you for your compliments. I was worried that Braedia's knowledge might be a little bit of a stretch, but I'm glad to see it wasn't. As far the Elvish goes, I will admit that my phrasing was wrong, but the content that I wanted in there was right. I am learning Sindarian by myself (like self-taught), which makes this a little difficult. I have "Languages of Tolkien's Middle Earth" by Ruth S. Noel, and it helps a little. But, as far as the story goes, if it's not perfect, it's because Braedia was taught by a Gondorian who was taught via the oral tradition, not by an elf who was fluent in the language. So her phrasing will be passable, but not perfect.**

**Willow: I know; I can't wait for Eomer either because a lot of stuff is going to happen once he gets back. Also, I've come to realize that, especially in the next portion of the series, there is a lot of partying going on...but that's for another time.**

**TheLadyAranel: Thanks! Also, love your fic! **

**brandibuckeye: I personally love the Battle of Pelennor Fields more, just because of sheer creativity of the things that happen. So many awesome opportunities to play around. But I will say no more for fear of spoilers.**

**As always, if you submit a review, I promise to respond, even if it's to thank you for reading and taking the time out of your day to leave me some words of encouragement. Reviews are like food and water for my author soul (like your regular soul, but it only focuses on the writing part of your life) and, if I don't feed it, then it will wither. And I think we can all agree that would be terrible. BUT NOW ON WITH THE STORY!**

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><p>Legolas and I were among some of the first people in the column, Théoden moving back to be among his people. Legolas was keeping watch on the horizon with his good eyesight. I was just keeping him company. We passed some people who were walking as we made it to the very beginning of the column. Scouts from the Rohirrim were up ahead, so Legolas turned to me.<p>

"I heard you speaking with Aragorn earlier, before we left," He said softly.

I looked down at my lap again with embarrassment. "I did not remember my place, and I regret my harsh words," I said with a sigh.

"I understand why you spoke them, Braedia. Your country has long been without a king, and the line of stewards is failing as the line of kings once did. You wanted to know how a man with the ability to breathe life back into Gondor would shirk shut a duty," Legolas said, his tone compassionate.

I smiled slightly and looked back at him.

"I'm sure that Aragorn does not hold it against you," He said confidently.

I nodded and we fell silent.

"The reason I brought up the subject, however, was not to discuss the latter half, but the former. Who taught you Elvish?" Legolas asked.

"My father. He said that the ancient Gondorians spoke it, and I should know it too," I said softly, blushing again.

Legolas laughed, and it was a merry sound. "He taught you well enough, but your accent gives you away," He said, still chuckling.

I blushed again, but felt a little tint of anger at his words.

"Do not look at me like that; I only jest," Legolas said, waving a hand at my anger.

I half glared at him and he laughed again. After a moment, I laughed too, but my heart gave a sudden throb at the similarity to this conversation to many that I had with Èomer. Legolas looked back at me, concerned over my sudden loss of mirth.

"I only remembered Èomer, and how he used to tease me over my pronunciation of some Rohirric words," I explained softly. My heart still throbbed, and I put a hand to my chest.

"You have feelings for him," Legolas said.

It was more of statement, so I kept silent, not even attempting to deny it.

"May I ask what happened?" Legolas asked softly.

I looked at him and he was still looking at me concerned. I sighed and told him of the last meeting between Èomer and I. Legolas considered my words for a moment in silence and I let him think. I did not know why, but I felt a connection to this elf, as if I could tell him anything. Our conversation was easy, as if I had known him for years. It was nice to have a friend like that.

"Èomer was not polite in asking you to not give away your heart until he returned. But I can understand why he did it," Legolas said at last.

I looked at the elf curiously. Legolas turned his horse around and we stopped. We had grown some distance from the column and I could only faintly hear them behind me.

"You are a beautiful maiden, Braedia. Any man would be fortunate to call you his wife," Legolas said seriously.

"Do not say that you have fallen for me too," I said, half in jest, half lamenting the possibility.

I had enough on my hands with Èomer; I did not need to earn the affections of yet another man. Legolas laughed and shook his head.

"While I can admit that I do care for you, Braedia, my feelings are not romantic. I have a love of my own, but she has sailed to the Undying Lands. My heart went with her, and I will have it returned to me when I join her," Legolas said, his voice growing distant.

I nodded and we stood there for a moment in silence. Our horses shifted under us, and I could hear the column approaching. I was unsure of what to think of Legolas's confession, so I stayed silent. He looked behind me, and I turned to see Aragorn riding up to meet us.

"We are making camp in the valley below. Èowyn has been looking for you, my lady," Aragorn said formally.

I felt a little pang in my chest and I stopped him before he could ride off.

"I apologize for my behavior earlier. I was not thinking, and I should not have said those things," I said softly.

Aragorn considered me for a moment, and then sighed. "I do not hold your actions against you. In truth, I have been asking myself those same questions for many years," Aragorn said heavily.

I nodded, but let his statement rest. We three rode back to the camp and dismounted. I found that my legs were a little stiff from the long ride, but I quickly walked it off as I found Èowyn near a small fire.

"Oh there you are, Braedia. I was wondering where you had gotten to," She said happily.

She put a little pot over the fire and I looked down into it. There was some water and a few bits of vegetables in it.

"Legolas and I rode to the head of the column," I said, sitting down beside her.

She was stirring the pot anxiously and I laughed at her.

"What are you making?" I asked, looking into the pot. I tried to find an odor, but there really was not one.

"Stew. I'm not much of a cook, but I think the men will appreciate it," She said, looking away and into the distance.

I followed her gaze and saw that Aragorn was sitting with Gimli. I looked back at Èowyn, and I smirked at her. She looked at me and I gave her a knowing look. She blushed and looked back to the pot.

"Aragorn?" I asked with a chuckle.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I cannot say that I am not surprised, but I am happy for you. It is good of you to know love," I said with a distant glance.

I stared off, not really seeing anything. She looked up and followed my non-existent stare. I really looked at the direction I was looking and saw that I was looking at Legolas. He was unsaddling both of our horses and brushing them down.

"Legolas?" she asked in a mirror of the tone I had used earlier.

I laughed and shook my head. "Legolas and I are only friends. He has another, one of his own kind," I said, still smirking at her.

"That does not mean that he does not have your heart," Èowyn said with a little sigh.

I rolled my eyes. "You know very well who has my heart, and it is not Legolas," I said a little sternly.

I stood up and brushed off my legs. "Add some spices to that, or it will be bland. That plant there will help," I said, pointing to a little patch of green a few feet away.

She smiled at me, and pulled some of the leaves from the plant and crushed them before tossing them into the pot. I smiled and left her alone. I knew how terrible of a cook she was, and I did not want to have to taste whatever mad brew she had come up with this time. I went over to where Legolas still stood and helped him groom the horses.

"I could hear you, you know," Legolas said after a moment.

I laughed. "Do you always eavesdrop on my conversations?" I chuckled.

"Not purposefully. But there are few things worth listening to," Legolas said in jest.

I laughed a little and we packed away the grooming supplies.

"Èowyn made a stew," I said in passing.

Legolas looked over to where Èowyn now was. She had gone straight to Aragorn and was standing over him as he ate. She turned to walk away, and I saw him try to dump the soup, but then she turned back and continued to stand over him even after they had finished talking. Legolas laughed at the proceedings and then he turned back to me.

I went into my saddlebags and pulled out the bread, apples, and dried foods and held them up. Legolas smiled and held out his arm to me. I laughed and took it. He led me to a flat rock on a hill looking over the camp. We sat down and he pulled out some strange bread from his own pack. It was wrapped in a thick green leaf and I saw that small bites had been taken out of it.

"It looks like a rodent has gotten into your food," I said with a laugh.

Legolas shook his head. "This is lembas, elvish way bread. Only a small bite is needed for me to feel satisfied," He said, pulling out one of the wafers.

I nodded and pulled out a small knife from my boot. Legolas looked at me curiously. I rolled my eyes and cut chunks out of my apple. I ate them as I carved out of the apple and Legolas nibbled on his bread. We sat eating in silence for a moment, but then I sighed and stopped. Legolas looked at me curiously.

"Would it be too much of me to ask you to tell me of your home? I have only heard stories of Elves and their lands, and I wish to hear what they are like from one who has experienced them first hand," I asked, almost a little embarrassed to ask now.

Legolas smiled at me, and he put down his bread.

"My home lies many miles from here, but I can see it as clearly as if I were there," He said, his voice growing distant.

He looked to the northeast, and I could tell that he could indeed see his home. We sat there on that rock exchanging stories of our homelands. He told me about the towering forests of Greenwood, or as I heard them called Mirkwood, and I told him of the White City where I was raised. Time seemed to pass differently on our rock, and it felt good to go back to my memories without the hurt that usually accompanied them. I knew then that Legolas was helping my wounds heal, and I would be grateful forever for that.

Before I knew what had happened, I found that the sun was setting, and Èowyn had come to look for me. Legolas stood as I stood and walked with us back to camp. Èowyn led us to the tent that she and I would share. Legolas bowed before wishing us good night and walking away. Èowyn gave me a look after we had slipped into the tent. I sat on my cot and took off my weapons and boots.

"Why do you look at me like that?" I asked with a chuckle.

"And you say that he does not have your heart," Èowyn said.

I rolled my eyes. "He was telling me about his home, and I was telling him about my own. Forgive me, my lady, if I neglected you today. But you seemed to keep yourself occupied enough with Lord Aragorn," I said with a smirk.

Èowyn rolled her eyes, realizing that I had her beat. She lay down on her cot, and I blew out the little lantern that was hung from the center pole. I slipped under my own blankets of fur and looked at the roof of the tent. I sighed, my mind wandering as if often did before sleep.

I could not help my thoughts as they drifted to Èomer. Legolas had told me that he gave them no message for me during our talk, but I could not help but wonder if he thought of me. I wondered where he was, and if he was lying on the ground under the stars or on a cot with a tent to keep him safe. His men, for he was surely the leader, would never allow their commander to sleep without a tent if they had one to give.

I closed my eyes and thought back to the last time I saw him. I could imagine the feel of his lips on my cheek. His scruff was rough against my cheek, but the warmth of his lips was still engrained in my mind. I fell asleep with thoughts as to how those lips would feel other places on my person.

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><p><strong>Thanks to everyone that has been reading. We've passed the 6,000 hits mark. I am still in awe of everything that has happened since I first published this almost two months ago.<strong>

**Oh, and finals are coming up for this college student, so if my updates slow down a little, just know that I'm pulling my hair out over papers, projects, and tests (oh the life of an English major; it can be rough, but I just have to tell myself that it'll be worth it). You should review to keep me from going completely crazy...just saying.**


	16. Chapter 16

**So I have a lot to say, and not much time to say it in. So review responses start now.**

**Certh: Your point was considered and I'm going to be double and triple checking my Elvish from now on. I think I've been using a lot of Quenya mixed with my Sindarian, which is a big, giant NO-NO, or even worse Grelvish, which is considered by some to be a mortal sin in fan-fiction writing. I'm glad you feel that way about Legolas's romantic life. I'm going to be spicing it up a little in the next part of the series, but I think it's still believable. Legolas's romance with his wife is part of the reason that I want to write a story about it. It shaped him in such a huge way, and I think it would be a lot of fun, especially to have him interact with some of the elves I introduce later. But I'm going to stop before I ruin everything.**

**Willow: Exactly! I didn't want Legolas to compete with Eomer, like at all, and this was the best solution I could come up with.**

**brandibuckeye: Boromir wanted her to live her life, so she's living. I feel bad that I don't have her interact as much with Gimli, though I make up for it in this chapter. There are just so many characters and it would take too long to establish relationships with them all. And plus, I don't think it's believable for her to be instant friends with everyone she meets.**

**Annie: Thank you for your first review. I'm glad that my characters (if you can call everyone beside Braedia my characters) are pleasing. I must be doing something right if everyone keeps commenting so much about it.**

**CrocScale: Thank you for your first review. I'm glad I have your loyalty, because that's more than I feel comfortable asking for. I can merely ask for your time, and even that is a stretch.**

**rosewriter17: Thank you for your first review, and the three susquent ones. I have to say that I'm glad you've gotten over your accent issues because it's not going to change any time soon. I've written far too much to just go back and change one accent in every document I've created for this story (which is well over 60 of them). As far as how I write so well, I've been at this for quite some time and good writing comes with a lot of practice. It also helps that I'm paying $20,000 a year to go to college to learn to be a better writer.**

**So that was a lot of reviews. As always, you review, and I promise to respond. But on with the story because I've wasted enough of your time.**

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><p>The next morning, or later that night, I woke when it was still dark. There was light around the tent, but it was faint. I stood and replaced my weapons and boots as quietly as I could. Èowyn still slumbered, and I did not want to wake her. I walked out of the tent and saw that it was just before first light. The world was still shadowed, but there was enough light to see without the use of a torch.<p>

I looked around and saw that most of the camp still slept. I stepped quietly between the sleeping villagers and went to the trough where fresh water had been gathered. I splashed my face with the cool water, feeling more awake as I wiped it away with the corner of my cloak. I looked around again, and I saw that someone was sitting on a rock facing east. I decided to walk to see who it was, hoping that it was Legolas. I found, however, that it was Aragorn.

"You are up early," He said as I approached.

"I always used to wake this early. It has been one habit that has been hardest to shake," I said, moving to his side.

He invited me to sit next to him, and I took up the invitation. I looked east, and there was a dull red glow. It was starting to fade as the sun rose, but I could still see that it was not the sun that caused the glow.

"What is that?" I asked softly, squinting to see it better.

"It is the land of Mordor. I thought one of Gondor would be familiar with it," Aragorn said.

"I am, for I have ever dwelt in its shadow, but I did not know one could see its gloom this far," I said, slightly amazed.

"Its shadow is growing; Sauron seeks to have dominion over all the lands," Aragorn said cryptically.

I sighed, feeling despair creeping into my heart.

_Even this darkness must pass,_ I said to myself.

I shook my head. The sun crept higher into the sky as time went by, and more people started to rise.

"We should start preparing to leave. Théoden King will surely wish to speed this journey along," I said, standing up.

Aragorn sat for another moment, and I waited for him. As he stood, a jewel around his neck caught my eye. It was pure white and shined against his dark clothing and fairly dirty skin.

"That is a beautiful thing," I said, motioning to it.

Aragorn looked down, and I saw his face darken.

"If you do not wish to speak of it, I underst-"

"A woman, an elf, gave this to me. She professed to love me, but I know that we can never be together. She belongs with her people. I bid her to sail to the Undying Lands, to be with her people," He said heavily.

His voice was barely above a whisper, but I could tell how much it hurt him to speak of this woman. I put my hand on his shoulder and he looked at me. I could see the love shining in his eyes.

"She is right to love you. It is hard not to," I said softly.

Aragorn looked at me strangely for a moment, and my eyes went wide.

"I do not mean myself, my lord. My heart belongs to another. Though, if I had a heart of my own to give away, it would be difficult not to give it to you. You are an honorable man, and you did what you believed to be best," I said, trying to sound as comforting as possible.

He smiled a little and put his hand on my shoulder. We stood there for a moment before we walked back to camp. I went to my horse to find that it was already saddled. Legolas appeared with his own saddle and put it on his horse.

"You spoil Narmírë, Legolas. She cannot expect such attention all the time, and you are wrong to give it to her," I said with a half scolding glare as I walked to my horse's side.

She moved sideways slightly, just enough to give me a nudge. She looked back at me with a sassy look and I laughed at her.

"_You are beautiful, and worthy of attention,"_ Legolas said in Elvish to my horse.

She tossed her head and I rolled my eyes.

"She is quite the playful one," Legolas said as he saddled his horse.

"That she is," I said with a laugh. I rubbed her neck and nickered softly.

"I will not be riding today. I saddle this horse for Gimli. I wish to run," Legolas said, his look almost apologetic.

I chuckled a little. "That is fine. I cannot expect to have all of your time. I will lead my horse and Gimli's. Narmírë could use the rest anyway," I said with a smile.

Legolas smiled and we heard the dwarf behind us. Legolas and I helped him into the saddle and I walked the horse along. Most of the camp had packed and I found myself waiting by Èowyn's horse. She was just finishing packing her saddlebags and then Aragorn walked up to us. Very soon after, the column was moving again. I walked with Èowyn and Aragorn for a moment, and Gimli entertained us with stories of the dwarves. But as the day went on, I found their pace to be too leisurely, so I walked a little faster.

Gimli and I talked for a while and I found the little man to be quite endearing. He refused to call me by my name, despite my attempts to get him to do so. He was quite intrigued by my tales of the mountains around Minas Tirith, and that was understandable. After a while, I noticed that Legolas was running along the top of a ridge, keeping his eye out to the horizon. Gimli noticed how I watched Legolas, and I blushed under his questioning gaze.

"It is all right if you fancy the elf, my lady. He is quite a handsome fellow," Gimli said.

"I am unsure why, but everyone is convinced that Legolas and I share feelings. While we do care for each other, I assure you that our feelings are merely that of friendship. He is kind and understanding, and sympathizes with my losing one that I love," I said with a chuckle.

"You spend much time with him," Gimli said simply.

"I enjoy his conversation," I said, still chuckling.

"No need to get defensive. I am merely pointing out what I see. And even if you do not fancy him, surely your heart is not still with Boromir in the grave," Gimli said as if he were saying things that were obvious.

I sighed and looked off to the distance. "No, master dwarf. I do not think so. Though my heart is far from me, it is not in the grave with Boromir. He bid me to love again, and I feel that he is right. He did not want me to succumb to my grief," I said distantly.

"Good. You are too pretty to be in love with a dead man. You need a man that can make you laugh, but make you angrier than anyone else. But you still need to be able to laugh off the anger too. That's real love. You bring out the best, and the worst, and love each other despite it," Gimli said seriously.

He seemed deeply satisfied by what he was saying and I could not help but smile.

"Truer words have never been spoken, master dwarf," I said.

He nodded and fell into silence. I looked as two horses trotted ahead of us and out in front of the column some ways. Legolas was looking around, his face written with concern. He felt something, and it caused me to be unease. I slowed my pace and I could tell that Gimli was looking at me strangely. Then suddenly, there was a strange roar and a scream from ahead. Legolas took off at a sprint and it took everything in me not to go after him. Aragorn ran after Legolas, and shortly after, he came sprinting back down the hill.

"What? What is it?" Théoden shouted to him.

"Wargs! We're under attack!" Aragorn shouted as he ran.

A touch of fear came to my heart, and I was frozen for a moment. Then the ripple of panic spread through the column and the cries came out. I snapped out of my fear and threw Gimli his reigns. I mounted my own horse and turned as Gimli fell from the horse. Other men had moved to help him up.

"All riders to the head of the column," I heard Théoden shout.

I turned, but then I realized that my place was not in the battle, but with Èowyn. Despite my urge to turn and fight with the men, I knew Èowyn would need me more.

"I can fight!" Èowyn was shouting at her uncle as I reached them. She, too, wanted to ride, but Théoden shouted his disapproval.

"You must do this, for me," He said tenderly.

She looked ready to fight him as he rode off, but I broke in.

"You go to the head of the column and lead them on. I have no knowledge of the way to Helm's Deep. I'll go to the back and protect the rear and keep people moving," I said to Èowyn.

She sighed and nodded. "Make for the lower ground! Stay together!" she shouted as I took off to the back of the group.

I herded the rest of the women and children forward, all the while making sure to turn and look behind for any creatures that might have sneaked back to attack. I had my sword drawn, but as we moved on, I knew we would not need it. The men were doing their job of protecting us. I kept it drawn however, seeing that its mere presence help to calm people. They felt that they weren't just being abandoned; they had someone that could fight and protect them.

Our progress was faster, now that the threat of death was behind us. I made several trips around the group at a canter, making sure that everyone kept tight ranks and that no one was struggling. Èowyn had given her horse to a very pregnant woman, and had taken up the woman's basket. It was a very noble thing of her to do, and it seemed that there was valor yet in this task. Within a few hours, we reached the crest of a hill that lead into a valley below.

"Helm's Deep!"

"We're safe!"

"We made it!"

"Thank the Valar!"

"Helm's Deep!"

The relief in their cries forced me to turn from my vigil to look. The fortress was set deep into the mountain, as if it were carved out of its very rock, not unlike Minas Tirith. However, Helm's Deep was small and it did not have the grandeur the White City promised. As we approached, the fortress came into more detail. A mountain stream flowed through it and out a drain in the massive wall that made up the majority of the defense. The wall was solid rock and stretched from the side of the mountain to the circular keep. A single spire went up from the keep, and there were strange hollows in its sides. A long causeway led up to the main gate, and it felt precarious as the group made its way up to it.

The gates opened for us, and I was overwhelmed by the amount of people that were in this small space. It seemed that all of Rohan was taking refuge in this place. I followed the flow of people until I found myself standing beside Èowyn just after the entrance of the gate.

"We've made it," Èowyn said as I dismounted.

"This feels so dark and close. I was raised in a city of stone, but this feels different," I muttered lowly to her.

I did not want to raise my voice because there were too many people around for me to comfortably speak my mind.

"There is no need for unease. This fortress has never fallen. Come, let us stable the horses. Then we shall see to the supplies," Èowyn said confidently.

Despite her reassurances, I could not shake the feelings of ill ease from my gut. I knew better than to ignore my instincts, but I pushed them aside for now. This was not the time to worry. I had a duty to perform, and it was to stay with Èowyn. She walked off to the stables and I followed her.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: No time! So many reviews to respond to!**

**Willow: You have no idea how long I stared at pictures of Helm's Deep in order to figure out how an outside that's never seen the fortress would describe it. **

**rosewriter17: I'm trying very hard not to turn the Dwarves into bumbling, back-woods, mountain folk. Gimli is the son of a Dwarf lord, so he would have an air of refinement to him. I just wish I had more time to show more of him. But there is just too much to do, and so little time to do it in.**

**Lady of Sign: Thank you for your first review. I can't wait to show you. It's going to be a lot of fun, and it takes a lot of self-control not to rapid fire post chapters.**

**brandibuckeye: Gimli is so under-appreciated. And hopefully I will be setting up a true posting schedule so you'll know exactly when I'll be posting next. That news will be coming soon.**

** Certh: Slip-ups were noted and fixed. Also, I sent you a PM, and I'd like to hear from you regarding its contents :)**

**MinNinniach: Thank you for your first review. And, as far as I know, you're my first reviewer whose primary language isn't English. This is another reason that I love this platform for publishing. My story is reaching people that I never would have hoped to reach otherwise. I hope you'll stick around for the rest of this crazy journey.**

**So I used enough of your time. Things are getting crazy, so I'm just going to get right into the story now.**

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><p>Èowyn and I quickly found room for Narmírë in the stables, though I knew she would have to share a stall when the king arrived with his men. After that was complete, I went with Èowyn to see to the food that had been brought with us.<p>

"Where is the rest?" Èowyn asked as she surveyed the meager supply of food before her.

"This is all we could save, my lady," A man said. He had been helping us with the food.

Èowyn pursed her lips for a moment while she looked at the baskets. I could not help but feel her anxiety was just. There was far too little food here to support the additional people that had been brought from Edoras. We could not survive long here, even if there was much food left.

"Take it to the caves," Èowyn said at last. She sounded so defeated.

Then came a cry that I knew we were all listening for.

"Make way for Théoden! Make way for the king!" a soldier called out.

Èowyn perked up extensively and she gathered her skirts before running toward the gate. I ran after her, but my feeling of dread grew as I looked upon the company coming through the gates. Èowyn and I raced along to the stairs, and I could not help but to count the men. Surely there were more men than this. There had been in the column. Èowyn craned her neck as she stood before her uncle, looking to see who had and had not returned. I, too, scanned the faces. I could not see Legolas, or Gimli, or Aragorn.

"So few. So few of you have returned," Èowyn said, breathless.

"Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives," Théoden said as he dismounted.

He pulled a wounded soldier from his horse and gave him to a healer that was waiting to receive him. I was still looking for my friends when Gimli came up to us.

"My ladies," He said softly.

I finally saw Legolas leading his horse down to the stable, and I could see that a shadow had fallen across his face. My brow furrowed and looked back to Gimli.

"Lord Aragorn? Where is he?" Èowyn asked after swallowing hard.

I tried to look again through the crowd, but they had mostly dispersed.

"He fell," Gimli said, his voice breaking.

I sucked in a deep breath, and looked at the dwarf. He had two large tears rolling down his cheeks and into his beard. I looked at Èowyn, and I could see her heart breaking in her eyes. I took her by the shoulders and held her to my chest. I could not allow myself to grieve now, because Èowyn needed me. I could grieve later, when I had a moment to myself. Èowyn stood in shock as I held her. Gimli had moved on, but Èowyn and I remained. She did not sob, or even cry silently. Her face was blank, but her eyes were wide with the pure shock of the news she just received. She pulled away from me suddenly and she shook her head, as if clearing thoughts from her mind with the physical action.

"I have to help my people," Èowyn said softly before walking away.

I wanted to go after her, but I wanted to seek out Legolas too. I sighed, deciding that Èowyn could live without me for a moment. I went down to the stables and found Legolas still there with his horse. We were the only ones in the stable. Everyone else had moved on to other tasks. I walked to the side of the stall and watched as Legolas brushed his horse.

"Legolas?" I asked after a moment.

He could usually tell when anyone approached him, but this time I saw that he started ever so slightly and turned to face me. He had two streaks from tears down his face. I rushed into the stall and gathered him up in my arms. I could feel my own tears forming in my eyes as he buried his face in my hair.

We stood there for a long time, just embracing each other and feeling the loss of Aragorn. For me, I was only losing a man that I heard about in legends, but only met a few days ago. Legolas was losing a great friend. Legolas did not cry as I thought that he would. He must have let out two lone tears, but he still accepted my comfort. After a long while, we pulled away to look at each other. Legolas took my face in his hands and wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

"Thank you, Braedia. I did not realize how much I needed that form of comfort," Legolas said sincerely. His deep blue eyes seemed to pierce mine, not leaving any room to hide.

I chuckled a little, but it was sad. "I can stay strong for everyone, and I can endure all of their tears. But my heart broke a little when I saw that you had been crying. I almost did not think about what I was doing until it was done," I said, a small smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

He nodded and we stood for another minute. Legolas then gently kissed my hairline and I accepted it. He released me and then took a tiny step back.

"We should return. Our friends need us now. We were strong for each other, now we must be strong for them," Legolas said, putting a hand to his chest and then on my shoulder.

I did the same, recognizing the Elven gesture. We smiled at each other and then he offered me his arm. I took it and smiled.

"You are the only one I will allow to escort me. Èomer tried all the time, but I always told him that he did not need to escort one in lower rank than he," I said with a chuckle.

"I am of higher rank than you. My father is the king of Mirkwood, making me the prince. But I will still escort you," Legolas said with a smirk.

I looked at him with my jaw dropped. "How would a king allow his son to embark on such a dangerous journey?" I said, surprised at the very least.

I almost dropped his arm, but Legolas held me firm.

"I wished to go on this quest, and I can be quite persuasive when I wish to be," Legolas said with a chuckle and a sly smile.

I still looked at him with wide eyes. He did not look like a prince, but his actions had always been quite regal in their manner. I thought that had come from his being an elf, but it seemed only logical now that he would have regal mannerisms if he were royalty. We reached the hall and found that supplies were steadily being taken back to the caves and that the men who had been wounded were being treated.

Then Théoden came marching past us and almost continued on by. But he noticed me and stopped.

"May I have a word with you, Braedia?" he asked.

I nodded to Legolas and he nodded back. He went off and Théoden extended his arm to me. I took it, thinking that I could let the king escort me if he so wished; it was not my place to deny a king. We walked slowly down one of the dark corridors of the keep. Once we were sufficiently alone, Théoden stopped and turned to me.

"I will be sending you and Èowyn into the caves when the time for battle comes," He said, getting straight to the point.

"Of course, my lord," I said, keeping the bitter tone out of my voice and my expression neutral.

"Èowyn will want to fight, but I need you to keep her in the caves. I've already lost too many members of my family to lose you both," Théoden said, an edge of sternness to his tone.

"It is only right that she would want to fight for her land and people. But I understand, my lord," I said softly.

"I expect that you want to fight as well," Théoden commented softly.

I had been looking down at the area around his shoulder, but at his words, I looked up into his face. It was dimly lit from the far off light at the end of the passage, but I could tell he was considering me.

"I would, my lord. I feel that my sword could be of use to you because you are so short on soldiers," I said simply.

I was not going to beg or plead for my opportunity to fight. My battle would come. I just had to pick which one it would be.

"It would be of use. If only you were a man, then I would let you fight and die like all of the others. But alas, I would never hear the end of it if I allowed you to fight when I would not let my own niece, who is just as strong and as brave as you, to fight. No, I must ask you to go to the caves. They need protectors there too, should the battle take that turn," Théoden said, his voice thoughtful.

I sighed, resigning myself to this duty. No, this would not be my battle. While Rohan was my home now, I could not help but feel that I would be needed later in a much more important battle. I nodded and the king escorted me away back down the hall.

"Help move the women and children into the caves," Théoden said, his tone back to his usual commanding voice.

I nodded and went to go complete the task. I started picking up baskets when someone took my basket from me. I looked up and saw that Legolas had rejoined me. He was smiling at me. I picked up another basket, and we walked together. He opened his mouth after a minute, but I turned and stopped him.

"Do not tell me that you were eavesdropping again," I said with a laugh.

"Forgive me, for indeed I was. I do have to commend you for your control. If I were in your position, I would be furious," Legolas said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at him, but then sighed. "My heart tells me that this is not where I will make my battle. I can feel that I will be needed later," I said distantly.

"The Gondorian people, especially those with Númenórean blood, have been known to be gifted with foresight. It is a remnant of the First Born blood they used to have," Legolas said.

I shrugged, not really knowing what to think of his statement. Only the nobles had Númenórean blood, and I, a descendent of servants, could not possess the gift of foresight.

"I think you might be mistaken," I said with a sigh.

"Perhaps, but you did tell me that you witnessed Boromir's death, even though you were many miles away. And you could sense that something was wrong with Gríma and what he was doing to the king, even though you could put a name to your thoughts. You cannot tell me that you do not feel dread just by being in this place." Legolas said, slightly chastising.

I sighed and shook my head. We had handed off our burdens to someone heading the cave and we were going back to get some more. Legolas smirked, but he let the subject drop. We were to get some more when we heard some whispers rippling through the crowd.

"He's alive!" I heard one woman gasp.

Legolas and I looked at each other and we started to walk down to the gate, but we nearly ran headlong into Aragorn. He looked terrible. His coat, which was usually pretty ruddy to begin with, was covered in blood, some of which was leaking from a wound on his arm. Aragorn looked up, and seemed a little surprised to Legolas.

"_Le abdollen,_" Legolas said with a smirk.

I could have punched him in the jaw for his jest, but Aragorn chuckled at it.

"You look terrible," Legolas said.

Aragorn sort of shrugged as if to say: What did you expect? I smiled and Aragorn put a hand on my shoulder. Legolas held something up in his hand and Aragorn held one of his. They were covered in mud and blood, but Legolas put something gleaming white in it. It was the jewel that Aragorn usually wore around his neck. Legolas smiled and then Aragorn thanked him. He gave me a nod before brushing past us to go somewhere.

"Go with him. I should find Èowyn. I have neglected my duty for too long," I said with a smile.

Legolas smiled at me and then went after Aragorn.

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><p>Translation:<p>

_Le abdollen_: You're late.


	18. Chapter 18

**Really quick: This story has a beta-reader now, loyal reader Certh. She's been doing it for me anyway, but not it's official. But anyway, so many reviews, so little time! Thank you guys so much for your awesome responses! Oh, and you owe Certh for making me fix the accent marks over the names that I know people have been angry at me with. I'll have you know that it was ridiculous and time consuming, but I did it. So you should leave a review expressing your gratitude...just saying.**

**brandi: Legolas doesn't even know, yet. But I promise it's nothing like you're imagining. **

**Certh: Fixed everything that you told me to. A lot of the stuff (like end stops) I usually fix in the editor on FanFiction. I'll try to fix it before I send chapters to you from now on. **

**Willow: Am I going to get more chapters from you soon? **

**rose: I try my best. Despite what my friends say, fanfiction is a zero-pressure way to practice writing, and I'm getting plenty of experience. **

**Lady of Sign: You're quasi-correct. **

**MinNinniach: Glad to hear that you're going to stick around. Yay loyalty!**

**YaoiMonster: Thank you for your first review. Hopefully you'll like where I take the story, because I sure do.**

**DORK DOG: I have tried to make sure that the boundaries stay up between Legolas and Braedia (and yes, you spelled it right; if you type it out and it looks like Bread-ia, you're doing it wrong), but the line sort of blurred as the story goes on, but hopefully you won't hate me for it.**

**Okay, there's going to be a little message at the end, because I spent so much time up here. Oh, and DORK DOG has written a story called "A Fellowship of Friends". It's only three chapters in, but if you're looking for something new to read, there it is. Herio i narn!**

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><p>I looked around, and as luck would have it, Éowyn was standing only a little ways from me. I went over to her, but as I approached, I saw her face darken. She turned sharply from me and returned to the task she had been doing before she was interrupted.<p>

"Is there anything you wish me to do?" I asked softly.

"Go help the healers prepare bandages," Éowyn snapped at me.

"I'm sorry for neglecting my duties, Éowyn. Legolas-"

"It is understandable. You both lost a friend," she said, still snapping.

"Éowyn, I'm not trying to minimize your pain, for I see how you feel about him. But I tried to comfort you, and you walked away from me," I said, trying to remain calm.

"It is fine. None of that matters, because he's alive. Now, please go help the healers," Éowyn said, straightening up.

"I will find you later," I said strongly.

She nodded absently, and I walked away. I went to the houses of healing and spent time ripping and rolling bandages for men when they returned. But after a little while, I could feel that the chatter outside was a little more frenzied and anxious. I excused myself and I went out to find that people were moving a little faster, and their faces were a little more drawn. I was set at unease by all of it. I looked around for someone to explain what was going on, but found no one. There was a general stream of people moving back toward the caves, and I fought against it and I finally spotted Éowyn.

"What is going on? Why are they separating the families?" I asked as I looked around.

"A great host marches on Helm's Deep. Help me find Aragorn. I need to speak with him," Éowyn said hurriedly.

I knew better than to stop and ask her questions when she was in one of these moods, so I scanned the crowd, and I saw him moving toward us with Legolas. I pointed him out to Éowyn, and she took off running, calling his name. I was close behind her, and she stopped him.

"I'm to be sent with the women to the caves," she said, clearly very angry.

I looked at her, as did Legolas and Aragorn.

"That is an honorable charge," Aragorn said, trying to move around her.

He clearly had better things to prepare for, and did not have the time to deal with this nonsense. I tried to grab her arm, but she shook me off.

"To mind the children! To find food and bedding when the men return. What renown is there in that?" she questioned angrily.

I sighed, and tried to grab her arm again. Aragorn took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes.

"My lady, a time may come for valor without renown. Who will your people look to in the last defense?" he said, trying to make her see reason.

I looked over their shoulders to find that Legolas was staring at me strangely. I looked at him curiously but he shook his head, clearly telling me that we would speak later.

"Let me stand at your side," Éowyn asked desperately.

I looked at her, alarmed. I did not think to ask Aragorn to allow me to fight. As a citizen of Gondor, he would have more authority over me than Théoden. But I was a servant in Théoden's household, so I did not say anything.

"It is not in my power to command," Aragorn said, clearly shocked by her candor.

He started to turn to walk away, but Éowyn shouted after him.

"You do not command the others to stay," she yelled.

He stopped, and turned back to face her. I looked around and found that some others had stopped to watch the scene that was playing out.

"They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you…because they love you," Éowyn said, tears starting to form in her eyes.

I raised my eyebrows at her. She had always been one that did not hide her thoughts or feelings, but she was never this bold when it came to love. Aragorn started to see how the lady felt for him, and she realized what it was that she had said. She looked down and away quickly, blushing.

"I'm sorry," She said, and she rushed off.

Aragorn looked at me, but I shrugged. He walked away, and Legolas lingered for a moment.

"I will find you before I have to join the battle," Legolas said.

I nodded and then I went after Éowyn. I followed the general flow of people toward the caves, and I found that the caves were beautiful. I was raised in a city made of stone, one that glittered and glistened in the sunlight. But these caves were of nature, and they were beautiful. The walls and formations glittered as if they were made of gold in the light of the torches that had been lit. The place was in general disarray with people trying to find places to settle down in temporarily. There were tearful good-byes happening everywhere, as older fathers and younger sons were ripped from the arms of their wives and mothers.

It almost broke my heart to see these boys leaving. It was a waste of life. Take the men who had lived their lives, but leave the boys that have not yet begun to live. But I could not let the sorrow drag at my heart.

_Even this darkness must pass,_ I said to myself.

Yes, there would be a time for living when war was over. Now, however, was the time to find Éowyn and help her. I looked around and saw her pulled back her hair and attempting to secure it behind her head. I sighed and smirked. I went up behind her and took the locks from her.

"You were never good at doing your own hair," I said with a chuckle.

Éowyn turned when I was done and looked at me.

"I thought you would have asked to join the battle," Éowyn said softly and hoarsely.

I put my hands on her shoulders. "This is not our battle to die in. We have something much more important to do here," I said with a smile.

"And what is that? Worry? Cry for our dying men?" Éowyn asked in a harsh whisper.

I shook my head. "We have to keep hope. There is already enough hopelessness on the battlefield. If we do not keep hope, then no one will. We must be strong for them, Éowyn. We have to be strong for your people. There will be a time for sorrow and anger, but this is not it," I said, pulling her into an embrace.

She returned it and pulled away. "Our people," she said.

I looked at her questioningly.

"These are your people just as much as they are my people. We are all Men here tonight," she said seriously.

I nodded, knowing she was right. After we embraced again, we moved to help people settle in. Within a few minutes, this was done, so Éowyn and I found a rock to sit on. We watched as the rest of the men and boys were stripped from their families. After they were gone, a silence settled in. We had not been told to lock the doors just yet. That order would come later. For now, everyone sat with their families, looking around the cavern and not talking. Even the babies were silent.

I watched the door anxiously. Legolas said he was come to me when he was about to go into battle. He must still be preparing. He promised that he would be here. After what felt like an eternity, I saw a figure appear in the doorway. I stood, but it was not Legolas. It was another guard.

"It is time to close the doors now. We will see you on the other side of the battle," he said loudly.

I ran to the door, calling for him to wait. "Someone promised that he would come to see me, and he has not come. Can we wait? Please?" I begged quietly. I did not want the people near me to hear my desperation.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot. Théoden King sent me here on direct orders, my lady. The doors must be shut," the guard said.

"Just a few more minutes?" I asked, trying to stall.

He shook his head and walked away. I grabbed him.

"I am a servant in the king's household, a maid to Lady Éowyn. Perhaps I could go looking for him? Then when I come back, the women can let me in," I said.

The guard sighed and shook off my grasp on his armor easily.

"These doors must close now, so stand aside," the guard said.

"Please, my lord, just a few-"

"Hold the doors a moment, Captain," I heard a familiar voice calling down the passage.

I looked and I smiled. Legolas had come. The captain looked and saw Legolas.

"I will close the doors. This will only take a moment. Join the king," Legolas said once he reached us.

The captain nodded and looked off. Legolas had put on leather pauldrons and his vambraces shone in the light from the torches.

"I almost thought you were not going to come," I said in a whisper.

"Come this way a little. I wish to have some privacy, and a few of the matrons are staring," Legolas whispered back.

I nodded and allowed Legolas to lead me over to a bend in the passage a short way away.

"Our numbers are few, Braedia. We have less than one thousand men, and yet we face an army of 10,000," Legolas said gravely.

I was shocked beyond words. There seemed to be no hope in the dire situation. But I had to stay strong and continue my hope, for it seemed the none of the soldiers did.

"I just wanted to see you one last time," Legolas said, taking my hands in his.

"Legolas, you said you do not feel romantically for me., I said confused.

Legolas shook his head. "You are correct. But you have been such a great friend. I am going to battle with my other friends, and it would be a great shame not to see all of them," Legolas said with a smile.

"I would have expected you to try to get me to come with you," I said with a smirk.

"I know better. Your wrath has been rumored to be great, and I never wish for you to become angry with me," Legolas said with a laugh.

I laughed. "You have heard correctly. But you should go. The battle draws near. I can hear the vibration in the walls," I said with a smile.

Legolas smiled. "If you only had the ears, you could be an elf," Legolas said with a sigh.

"If only," I said, a little fake longing in my face.

Then suddenly, Legolas took my face in his hands.

"_No Elbereth le beria, no elenath dîn erin râd lîn,__"_ he said, kissing my right cheek, my left cheek and then my forehead.

I blushed violently as he pulled away.

"It is a common farewell that Elves give each other before battle," he explained.

I smiled and then took his face in my hands and repeated the process.

"Now I cannot lose. Thank you, Braedia. I will see you when this is all over," he said.

He took my hands in his and kissed my knuckles before walking me back to the doors. I smiled at him before he closed the doors. I barred them from the inside and I sighed. Everyone was looking at me. I shook my head and went back to Éowyn. She was smirking.

"I promise that he and I are just friends. As I have told you many times, my heart belongs to another," I sad, pushing her slightly.

"Still Boromir?" she teased, but her smile faded as mine did.

"I found out from Aragorn and Legolas shortly after they arrived that Boromir has been slain," I said heavily.

"Oh, Braedia, why did you not tell me sooner?" Éowyn said, now very concerned. We were talking in whispers because we were the only ones carrying on any kind of conversation.

"There was Éomer's banishment, and Théodred's death, and your uncle's sickness. You did not need my sorrows on top of your own," I said softly.

She nodded and was silent for a moment.

"Does he still have your heart?" she asked.

I sighed and looked down and away. Now that I had no other distractions, I could not but really consider who did have my heart. At length, I shook my head.

"Then who?" she asked.

I looked at her meaningfully and her eyes went wide.

"You have given my heart to my brother?" she asked, shocked.

I sighed and put my head in my hands. "I'm not sure, Éowyn. I think he's had it even before he left, but I was too stubborn to let him in. But now that he is gone, I miss him terribly. I ache for him like I used to ache for Boromir. I want to see his smile. I want to hear his laugh. I would even be fine with his teasing again, if it only meant that he was near me. But I'm not sure that he will have my heart after how I treated him at our last meeting," I said with a sigh.

Éowyn put her arm around my shoulders. "If he does not want it, I will personally kill him. Any man would be lucky to have your heart, and you chose to give it to Éomer. He should feel blessed," Éowyn said roughly.

I tried to laugh, but it did not come out right. Instead, it sounded something between a cough and choking. Éowyn rolled her eyes and we sighed.

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><p><strong>AN: So this is my little request. I'm almost done writing the ending to the next portion of the series, but I've come to realize that I deal with some pretty mature themes. I touch on alcohol consumption (but not without consequences), depression, some more extreme violence, torture, and a little bit of sexually explicit content. I know that the guidelines are pretty strict here about what I have to rate such a story, and my hand would be forced to rate the story 'M' as it currently stands. But, the story is a point where, if I had to, I could go back and edit the story to not include some of these things. The story would not be much different, but I tend not to shy away from some things when I feel that they are pertinent to the plot. What I ask of you guys, the readers, is to let me know either A) if you are comfortable reading a story where all of those things are talked about or B) let me know which of those things (alcohol consumption, depression, violence, torture, sex) you are uncomfortable with, and by "uncomfortable", I mean that you would stop reading because that thing was talked about. I appreciate all of you, and I don't want to drive anyone away because of what I write. I'm not saying that I'm going to completely change the plot to accommodate one person, but if enough people are against a certain aspect, I'm most likely going to change it. If you aren't comfortable leaving a review with this information, you can always PM me. Thank you. **

Translations:

**Herio i narn!**: Let the story begin!

_**_No Elbereth le beria, no elenath dîn erin râd lîn._**: _May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine onto the path of your life


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: So there were a record number of reviews for the last chapter. 11 reviews! I am so humbled by how many people enjoy this story. This was literally just brain crack for me, and I'm so glad that people are enjoying this story. That being said, I unfortunately will not be able to respond to every single review this time. But I'll respond the a good portion.**

**Thank you to the following reviewer for their first reviews: naginatamoon, Geena, you've-been-sherlocked, UchihaAkia, TXChloe, and heart0nmysh0e**

**heart0nmysh0e: I just have to take a moment to say that your review really made my day. And I promise that the smutty-alcohol-torture laced cocktail is going to be coming relatively soon.**

**Lady of Sign: The "depression" I guess would be considered more "angst" now that I really think about it, and with angst comes anger, so there's lots of that. No spoilers on who is depressed :) You'll just have to wait to find out.**

**rosewriter: I have to admit that I have sort of gone to a dark place when I've been writing recently, but, because this story is told in the first person, it's easier to focus more on what the narrator (Braedia) is feeling rather than what is actually being done. **

**Willow: If you don't get chapters to me soon, I may not be able to get them back in a timely manner. I have a massive amount of papers that I have to write (oh the joys of being an English major), and I have a minute amount of free time right now. But I understand that you want to write well and make sure you get what you want to say across.**

**Certh: You are a wonderful beta-reader. You are catching things that I would not have otherwise seen. **

**And I have one last bit of good news: I have finished writing the sequel to this story, but I'm not going to be announcing the title for a little while longer. Suffice it to say that I had a moment last night where I just stared at the computer screen with this feeling of "what do I do now?" And then I remembered that I have a Boromir story to write. But I've wasted enough time. There'll be one more little note at the end, but I promise to be brief.**

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><p>But then suddenly, a most terrible noise came over the whole place. It was a shuddering pounding, like thousands and thousands of feet, marching toward Helm's Deep. Legolas had said that they were vastly outnumbered, but I had not truly believed him. But now that I heard their marching, I was sure that there was no way that we had enough men to face an army of that size.<p>

My heart tightened with fear, and Éowyn and I clung to one another for a moment. Then we looked at each other and understanding strung between our eyes. We had to be strong and brave for these women and children. We separated and moved to the center of the group in the caves. We beckoned the women and children to gather around us. They were frozen however, as suddenly the marching stopped. Éowyn and I looked at the roof of the cavern, and I closed my eyes. I prayed to every god or goddess I could think of that our men would make it through this.

Then more pounding started, and I looked at the women again. I smiled as best as I could, but I found that it was my ghost smile. It felt so strange on my face. I had not worn my ghost smile in some time, and I had to marvel on how far I had come since the last time I wore it. At the time, it felt so natural. But now, the smile felt false, so I made it seem more sincere with my eyes.

Tentatively, a little girl, no older than two or three, moved toward me. I opened my arms to her, and she ran into them. I gathered her up in my arms and sat her on my lap. Slowly, the children moved toward me, and by extension, their mothers.

"Would you like to hear a story?" I asked in low voice.

The children at my feet nodded, and I sighed. I settled on the stories my mother told me when I was young to put me to sleep at night. I ran through them all, but I ran out of material quickly. Éowyn, who now had a small child of her own in her lap, started telling stories that the children probably heard before, but still listened to. Anything was better than listening to the racket of noise that was going on above our heads.

Éowyn and I talked ourselves hoarse, even making up new stories to keep this children entertained while the battle raged overhead. But then suddenly, in the middle of a story, something happened. A sound that was a loud as a rockslide, but as quick as the snapping of a bowstring sounded over us. Éowyn's face drained of color, and I could feel my panic rising in me like vomit. But I swallowed and the little girl in my lap looked up at me.

"What was that?" she asked softly.

I smiled as best as I could. "Thunder. Now who wants to hear another story?" I asked.

I could not tell if the little girl knew if I was lying, but I continued to smile and tell happy stories, even resorting to the tales that Legolas told me of his people. I tried to tell them, but they did not have their effect without his melodic tone behind them. But I told them anyway, and the children were quiet and entertained. After a while, Éowyn started singing, because we ran out of stories to make up. At that point, everyone in the cave had gathered around us and all of the women were clasping hands and swaying slightly. I did not recognize the song, but everyone sang it, even some of the slightly older girls. It was a beautiful melody, sung in the call and answer style with Éowyn as the caller. The cavern echoed with the music, and I felt myself being swept up in the song. I swayed, and the little girl clinging to my neck soon started to drift. But the problem with songs was that they had to come to an end. Then silence took over, and the clamor of the battle reached our ears.

"I know a song. You may not understand it, but it is the Song of Beren and Lúthien," I said softly.

It was the only song I knew in Elvish, because my father sang it to me often. It was the moving tale of an Elf woman who gave her immortality away to be with a mortal man. The women and children around me did not understand a word of what I sang, but I knew they could hear the emotions of the song in my voice. I did not have a particularly stunning voice, but I was able to sing on key. The song was long, but I did not stop. I could hear banging on the gate above our heads. I could hear the ring of swords as if I were standing in the battle. But I did not stop. These women needed me to be strong, so I sang. When I finished, everyone sat in silence.

Then we heard the terrible noise: the breaking of the gate. The panic was uncontrollable. The women, who had remained so stoic and calm for so long, broke into sobs, as if they had only just been holding them back. Éowyn and I looked at each other. The little boy she had been holding had climbed into his mother's lap during my song, but now she was holding an older woman, who was sobbing uncontrollably. The little girl in my lap, who had been asleep, awoke from the noise of the panic. She looked around and went to her mother. I stood up on the rock and people did not look at me.

"EVERYONE LISTEN!" I shouted and everyone stopped.

"We need to start organizing. If the gates have broken, we need another exit. Is there another way out of the caves?" I called to everyone. I could feel that this was right.

"There is a passage," A woman called bravely from the crowd.

"Good. Everyone make for the passage. Leave your belongings. They will only be burdens. No treasure is worth your life," I said sternly.

No one moved, and everyone stared at me.

"These things will only kill us if we linger. We need to flee," I urged.

This seemed to get them to understand, and they started to organize and move toward the passage, although the progress was slow.

"Stand with me," I said, turning to Éowyn.

She looked at me, confused.

"I cannot hold back these creatures for long on my own. Stand with me, and give these people a better chance," I said seriously.

Éowyn's face stoned and she nodded. I unsheathed my sword and gave it to her. She took it and adjusted it in her hands. We found the back of the group and stood facing the door. We were expecting for them to break down at any moment. But then a new sound came. It was low and rumbling, like thunder but it went to my core and made my blood run a little hotter and faster.

"The Horn of Helm Hammerhand," Éowyn said softly, reverence in his tone.

The women stopped and looked at us.

"Keep moving," I said loudly.

They did so.

"We should create some sort of barricade. Make the going a little rougher," I said to Éowyn.

She nodded and we went to the door. The supplies were sitting there, so we piled boxes and baskets and sacks of food against the door. At the very least, it would make the entrance a little messy. We did as much as we could, although there were meager supplies to work with. By this time, most of the women had funneled out of the caves and into the passage, so it was just Éowyn and I standing about a bow's shot from the door. I had my bow out with an arrow ready. I was not going to waste my strength in pulling it back without knowing that there was a real threat.

I listened to the air around us. There were new sounds, rhythmic ones. It almost sounded like the pounding of hooves. I could not help but hope that maybe, by some chance, riders had come from somewhere to help. But I did not allow any that thought to linger. After what felt like an eternity, there was pounding on the door. But not the kind that meant danger. They were feverish knocks.

"Let us in! The battle is over! We have victory!" a male voice called through the planks.

I looked at Éowyn, and her face lit up. But I could tell that she was wary. It was fruitless to try to hope when we did not know who yet survived. I took my sword back and sheathed it. Éowyn moved to get the women back, and I cleared away the attempt at the barricade. By the time Éowyn returned, the way was clear and the door was open. The women rushed out, and Éowyn and I were swept up in the crowd streaming out to find sons and husbands.

When we reached the fortress, sunlight streamed from over the wall, and I blinked from the harsh light. I shaded my eyes as I looked around. Men were coming back into the fort from the field, I went to find higher ground, hoping to find some familiar faces. The first person I found was Gimli. He was coming down a set of spiral stairs that led up to the tower. We greeted each other happily, and then we separate to try to find our friends.

It was difficult to find anyone in the mass of joyful reunions and sobbing discoveries, but my heart leapt into my throat as I saw that Théoden had survived. He was seated on his horse next to Gandalf, who was riding a brilliant white horse. I was surprised to see him, because he had disappeared sometime previous. Behind him came riding in Aragorn, and I was just as happy to see him. Behind him came Legolas. I started moving toward the gate but then stopped short. Behind Legolas came, unmistakably, Éomer. He had come with his men to our aid. Now it made sense where Gandalf had disappeared to. He was getting Éomer from wherever he went.

I felt happy tears in my eyes and I pushed through the crowd. I was overjoyed to see that they had survived. I met them as they dismounted near the stairs leading up to the hall. I greeted Théoden and Aragorn and turned with a happy smile to Legolas.

"I told you that I would see you again," Legolas said with a sly grin.

I nearly jumped on him to embrace him, but he stopped me.

"I must find Gimli. I have a score to settle with him," Legolas said with a laugh.

He departed with a nod. And then I turned at last to Éomer. He was standing there looking at me curiously. I smiled at him, and the corners of his mouth lifted.

"Éomer," I breathed.

I moved toward him and he removed his helmet. His hair was disheveled, but he looked all the more handsome because of it. I stood less than an arm's length from him but I looked up into his face with wonder. He was alive, and he still looked like the Éomer from my memory.

"It has been too long," I said with a sincere smile.

"It has only been less than a fortnight," Éomer said with a scoff.

I sighed and shook my head. "It felt like an eternity," I said, a tear leaking down my cheek.

"I am glad to see I was missed," Éomer said with a sigh.

I felt my smile slacken slightly. He was distant. He looked me in the eyes, but I did not get the feeling that he was looking through me like I normally did.

"Yes, most dearly," I said a little disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm.

We stood there for another moment, and I could see his impatience growing in his eyes.

"Much has happened that I wish to tell you," I said, trying to get conversation going again.

"I must ride with my uncle in the morning to Isengard. Another time. I need to rest," Éomer said with a short nod.

He tried to walk around me, but I took hold of his arm. He turned back to look at me. He was almost annoyed, and I could see it in his eyes. I felt my heart breaking again in my chest.

"I kept my promises to you, Éomer," I said softly.

"I'm glad. Now if you will excuse me," Éomer said with another short nod.

He pulled his arm away from me. I stood there as more people rushed around me. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. I wiped them away before they could fall, but I could feel more replacing them. I looked around, trying to find that familiar head of blond hair. When I could not find it, I turned to the nearest person, who happened to be a guard.

"Where is Lord Legolas? I need to speak with him," I said, a little desperately.

The guard pointed in the direction of the stables, and I ran toward it. I struggled to keep my control. I needed to stay strong for a little longer. Just until I found Legolas. I did not find him in the stable, but the stable hand pointed me in the direction of the hall. I knew that of course he would be in his chambers. I ran through the people, not realizing who I was touching. None of it mattered. I found his chamber and I knocked swiftly. He beckoned me to enter, and I threw open the door. He had removed his jerkin, and all the stains of battle had been washed from him. He looked at me for a moment curiously before he saw the tears that were staining my cheeks. He moved to my side and looked down into my watery eyes.

"Can you be strong for me for a while?" I asked simply.

My voice shook, but Legolas nodded. He gathered me into his arms and I sobbed into his tunic. He gently moved me into the room and shut the door quietly behind us. I would have thanked him from making this breaking a private affair, but I was too busy breaking. Eventually we collapsed onto the floor and I clung to him while I draped myself across his legs. He had gently helped me remove my sword, cloak and bow and I was thankful for it. He got me to calm down enough so I could talk rationally and explain to him what had happened. He listened closely and did not display any emotion. He was only concerned for me. Eventually, my tear subsided, but Legolas kept me in his arms, gently rocking me.

"Tell me about the battle. What happened? In the caves, we could only hear chaos," I said hoarsely. Crying had left me without much of a voice.

He explained about the massive number of Orcs and Uruk-Hai that had attacked the fortress. About how they tried to use ladders, but were unsuccessful. And then he explained about the terrible fire. It was sudden enough to tear down a large portion of the solid wall. He explained how they had retreated, but then the gate was breached. Then, as a glorious last stand, everyone had mounted and then rode out to meet the beasts. Then, as the sun rose, Gandalf and Éomer had appeared with so many men. If they had not showed up, then we would have had to deal with Uruks in the caves.

Legolas then had me explain what happened in the caves with the women. I told him about the silence. The dreadful pounding. How Éowyn and I had told stories. Then the women sang. About the Song. Legolas continued to rock me as all this happened, and I felt my exhaustion sweep over me. I asked him to tell me more about his home, so if the occasion came where I had to tell stories for hours and hours, that I would not run out again. He laughed and told me more stories, all the while rocking me in his arms. I drifted to sleep with his soothing tones in my ear.

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><p><strong>AN: Okay, so don't hate me please! The story isn't over yet!**

**Also, I'm working on a solution for the sequel. I've come to terms with the fact that, while I can remove small portions of the content that would force me into an M rating, because there are some many occurrences of it that are actually relevant to the plot, my hands are tied. The sequel will have to be Rated M. That being said, I am working on a way to let you know which chapters contain some of the more graphic scenes, because there are really sweet moments in the story, and moments that make me want to cry. Like, I cried when I wrote the ending; not because it was the end but because I was just so moved by my own writing (said the narcissist...). I'm also considering changing the color of the text to white that contains the graphic portions, that way you won't have to read the mature content if you don't want to. I'm considering my options, but I have time and any other ideas are welcome.**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Sorry about taking so long to post this chapter. This was the first part that I've written that I haven't been 100% happy with, and I had to take some time to revise before I posted this. Hopefully, I'll be thinking of a better schedule to post. But onto review response!**

**heart0nmysh0e: I've always found Eomer to be more attractive when he was being moody too...and I hope you like short and sweet, because this is one of the shortest chapters I have written.**

**Geena: You will get nothing out of me in regards to Legolas and Braedia :)**

**MinNinniach: You and everyone else wondered about Braedia sleeping in Legolas's room. My overall reaction is: they're in the middle of a war; two people sleeping in the same room shouldn't be the top priority.**

**rose: Well how would you be if you were banished, then galloped all over to fight the Orcs, only to be told "come back! the king that banished you is going to be slaughtered!" and then the love of your life runs almost into the arms of another man (Elf) while you are standing right there? I don't "grumpy" begins to cover it.**

**Certh: just because you're my beta doesn't mean you get to dish out spoilers...but it's not flattery if it's true.**

**Lift the Wings: Thank you for your first review. Wow, a lot of people seem to be able to read this all in one day/night/morning/afternoon/evening. Maybe I should post more to make this impossible.**

**Lystan: Thank you for your first review, and what a review it was. I got the email about this review when I was having dinner on Friday, and I nearly had beverage come out of my nose when I read it. And I hope your boss doesn't know what you're spending your time at work doing...**

**Also, I'm reading and beta-ing another story called "Come Away to the Water" by Miss. Jay. It's a little different, but it you just suspend your disbelief, it's actually a really cool concept and a really well written story. And, if you need another reason to procrastinate, I've started another story (one that's not going to be NEARLY as long as this) called "Love Mingled With Grief". It's a Haldir story, but I'll give you fair warning: if you are offended by graphic descriptions of consensual sex and/or rape, I wouldn't suggest it. **

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><p>Legolas rocked Braedia in his arms until he felt her breathing even out. She had barely slept since they arrived at Helm's Deep, and after her bravery in the caves, and then emotional ordeal of her reunion with Éomer, she deserved to sleep long and deep. Legolas had to ride with the king to Isengard tomorrow, but they would not be setting out until at least midday. And after Isengard, they would return to Edoras. After Braedia fell asleep in his arms, he carried her to his bed. He could not help but to notice how light she felt, despite the clear display of toned muscle. It was soft, and she would be able to get a fitful rest on it. He stood and sighed as he looked at the woman sleeping before him.<p>

_She has been strong for so long. It was only a matter of time before she broke. I am only glad that I was there for her. She needs to keep hope, even if she cannot be strong,_ he thought to himself.

He turned and left the room, leaving her to sleep in peace. He shut the door softly behind him and turned to walk down the hallway. But his way blocked by a hulking form. He looked and saw that it was Éomer towering over him.

"Did Braedia come into your room? Many people said that she was asking for you," he said in a tone of tense calm. He had spent the last hour looking for her, only find that she had run to the elf instead of to him. Like she did when he first arrived.

"Yes, but she is sleeping. I must ask you not to disturb her. She has been exhausted by her experiences," Legolas said in a tone of forced calm as well. He had remained passive while Braedia had told him about how Éomer had treated her. For a man that claimed to want her heart, he had been quite cold to her, at least in his opinion.

"Were you two alone?" Éomer asked suspiciously.

"Yes, my lord. But I assure you that the meeting was innocent. Braedia has spent so long staying strong for everyone. She had to stay strong while her king withered before her eyes. She had to remain strong when the king's son died. She had to remain strong while those she loves were fighting above her head and women looked to her for guidance. It is understandable that she needed to be weak for a moment. I was strong for her," Legolas said, his protective instinct flaring.

"Strong for her?" Éomer said getting heated. He had never known Braedia to be weak ever, and he felt mildly insulted that this Elf would think her anything but an absolute paragon of strength.

"Éomer, you have my meaning wrong. I believe that you have a phrase for it. Something like: a shoulder to cry on. She has been through much, and I was that for her," Legolas said, trying to keep this meeting from going to blows.

Éomer rocked back from his aggressive position and looked at the Elf.

"Like what?" Éomer asked, now taken aback by the Elf's words.

"Do you not know? Or should I say remember?" Legolas asked calmly.

Éomer looked around for a moment before shaking his head. Legolas wanted to shake the man by his collar and make him see how hurt Braedia had been by his actions. He wanted to take Éomer back in time to watch as Braedia soaked his tunic with her tears over this man.

"You truly have no idea what effect you have on her," Legolas said after a long moment of silence.

"I have? She is in love with another man. A man from her home country. She told me so herself," Éomer said, turning bitter.

He remembered that day quite clearly. It had been with him every moment from the time he galloped away from her. She had said that she had no heart to give away, because it belonged to another. And now she seemed to become attached to Legolas, and she was going to break his heart, too, if she was still in love with this other man.

"The man that had her heart, the son of the Steward of Gondor, was slain in battle," Legolas said without really thinking.

He was unsure if it was his place to tell these things, but Éomer had to know and Legolas was even less sure if Braedia would ever speak to Éomer again. Éomer visibly started at this news and looked down and away from Legolas.

"When was he slain?" Èomer asked, unable to control his curiosity.

"After she came to Edoras. But she did not learn of his death until after you had been banished," Legolas said, understanding where Èomer was going with this line of questioning.

"How did she take the news?" Éomer asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"As well as could be expected. She was distraught, but she seemed to know in her heart that he was lost to her long before she was ever told that he was dead," Legolas said, not sparing any of the details now. It would only make it worse for the man if he did.

Éomer nodded and stood thoughtful for a moment. He had thought that Braedia had started showing interest in him before he left; that was why he asked her to save her heart until he returned. He would have come back, even if it meant death, just to see her again. But after she told him that her heart belong to another, he could barely stand it. He had never been rejected so outright before in his life. He knew that he was handsome by most standards, so women always fell at his feet. But Braedia had been different. She challenged him, and he enjoyed making her angry just to make her laugh again after. When he had seen her riding up to him side-saddle on the day that he brought home a wounded Théodred, he had been proud beyond words. She had improved so much in her horse riding skills, and he had helped her. Éomer felt attached to Braedia, and he wished to pursue her in a way that he had not pursued other women. He was still unsure of what exactly he felt for her, but he wanted to find out. But she had crushed the attempt before it truly began. But now that her love was dead, maybe her feelings had changed. She had looked at him with tears in her eyes, and he thought that those tears had been tears of regret. But if they were tears of joy, he had crushed them.

Legolas still stared at Éomer, trying to think of what this man was thinking. He was working through his actions slowly, and the process was almost painful for Legolas to watch. He just wanted to tell Éomer that Braedia loved him desperately, but he knew that was not his place. He would just have to wait for Éomer to work it out on his own. In the meantime, Legolas vowed to help them realize how they felt for each other. He did not approve of Éomer's actions, but he realized how much the man meant to Braedia, and he wanted Braedia to be happy. She was very dear to Legolas. He felt protective, but he wanted her to be happy as well.

"If you do not have anything else to say, I will depart. Get some rest. You deserve it," Legolas said compassionately.

Éomer looked at him and nodded. After Legolas walked away, he went to stand in front of the door, leaning on it so his forehead was touching the wood. He closed his eyes and pictured Braedia's sleeping form. He felt a strange desire to hold her while she slept, but he knew that was impossible. She more than likely hated him, especially after his cold shoulder. Perhaps after they returned to Edoras he could fix whatever relationship they had. If anything, he missed her friendship. After another moment, he walked away. He had to do some damage control, for there was sure to be talk about impropriety between Legolas and Braedia. He did not want nasty rumors to ruin her stunning reputation.

Legolas continued to walk. He went outside onto one of the ramparts of the fortress. He saw that many people were collecting the corpses of the Uruks and throwing them onto carts that would be dragged to the piles he saw off in the field before the fortress. They were also gathering the bodies of fallen defenders. Legolas saw a man carrying the body of a boy, as young as thirteen, to the place where the fallen were being lined up to be claimed by their families. Legolas watched as mothers sobbed over the bodies of their husbands and sons. Some were unrecognizable, for they had been so utterly mutilated by the Uruk-Hai weapons. Legolas's elf ears picked up the moans from the infirmary, and they made his stomach turn. He had never been a healer; he was unable to stand the sight of suffering. Aragorn was helping to heal who he could, for the man had received training from Lord Elrond, the famed healer of Imladris. There had been so much death, and it weighed heavy on the Elf's heart.

But he knew that, as long as Braedia needed, he would stay strong. He would time to grieve for his lost comrades when this was all over. Legolas looked up at the sky. The cloud that born the thunderstorm had passed and night was falling swiftly. The stars were blinking into life above his head, and he took a deep breath. It had been long since he breathed the scent of the world after a strong rain, and despite the scent of death around him, there was a refreshed quality to the earth. It was happy to receive the rain. Legolas looked around and then went back inside. He went back to his room and found that Braedia was still asleep. He sat in one of the chairs near his fire and let his mind drift into dreams.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: For some reason it feels like I haven't posted a chapter in a long time. And I'm procrastinating packing to move from my dorm back home...but onto the responses!**

**Certh: We had our talk and I'm glad you don't hate me for rapid-firing chapters at you. Saturday, I promise to get you the next one. **

**Lystan: I hope it won't get you fired. Although, reading fanfiction was one of the least "against the rules" thing that I did at work...that came out wrong, but I'm keeping it. Take that as you will.**

**MinNinniach: Well, you've still got about 24 chapters left (not including this one), so there's still a lot of time for the forgiveness to come. Among other things... **

**brandi: I almost wanted Legolas to verbally lay into Eomer, but it didn't feel right. He hasn't really done anything worthy of Legolas's wrath (yet). **

**Lady of Sign: Patience, grasshopper, patience. Just enjoy the ride and what happens, happens.**

**: You and Lystan made me laugh so hard with your creative use of 'douche-canoe'. I loved that so much that I posted a Facebook status about it. While this is not the shortest chapter (that one has already passed), I could not expand it anymore without adding extraneous details. Also, thank you for clarifying that you changed your user name. It makes my job easier for something later (but no spoilers).**

**Also, I'm going to try something new. I'm going to be including a translation in the text in brackets as compared to having the translations at the end. Let me know which method you prefer.  
><strong>

**Herio i narn! [Let the tale begin!]**

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><p>I woke up sometime later, expecting to be on the floor in Legolas's arms. But instead, I found that I was asleep on his bed, facing the wall. I rolled over and looked around. There was a small fire and Legolas was sitting in a chair next to it. His eyes looked off into nothing, but his head was resting heavily on the back of his chair. I looked at him for another minute, even clearing my throat. But he did not. I scrambled to my feet and stood by his side. His eyes were glassy, and I felt my panic rising in my throat. I had not even checked to see if he was injured. Perhaps he had bled heavily during the night. I shook his shoulder violently, and I was relieved as he started and looked around violently. I sat in the other chair, clutching my speeding heart in my chest. Legolas spotted me and relaxed visibly.<p>

"Good morning," he said, stretching slightly.

"You scared me, _mellon _[friend]. I thought you had been injured and died in the night," I said, laughing a little out of the sheer relief.

Legolas laughed heartily at my worries. "Elves dream with their eyes open. I'm sorry that I did not tell you, but I had not expected to fall into my dreams so deeply," he said, still chuckling slightly.

"Well, you were exhausted. You had to fight in that battle and then I…" I said trailing off.

I felt a little guilty now. I had burdened him with my grief when he had enough of his own to deal with. Legolas leaned across the distance and put a hand on my knee. I looked up at him and he was smiling.

"You were exhausted, too. I do not blame you for what happened. I welcome it. I promised that I would be strong for you when you need it, and I kept my promise," Legolas said soothingly.

I nodded and sighed. I looked out of his small window.

"I should find Éowyn. She will be worried about me," I said, standing.

Legolas also stood. I saw now that he was dressed in his full gear again, excepting the pauldrons.

"We should be leaving soon," Legolas said, handing me back my sword and bow and quiver.

I nodded and put them back on. I threw on my cloak again and he walked with me to find Éowyn. We found her preparing her horse in the stable. She smiled when she saw me.

"I could not find you, but Éomer said that you were safe," Éowyn said after Legolas had departed to take care of his own horse.

I felt my face fall at the mention of his name. The events of his return still played in my mind, and they left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"You did not seem happy after you saw him. I saw you running through the crowds with tears in your eyes," Éowyn said softly.

I did not respond but continued to saddle Narmírë.

"What happened?" Éowyn asked desperately.

"He was cold with me. I was overjoyed to see him, but he brushed me off," I said bitterly.

"He was just tired. Éomer is always a little cranky when he has not had his rest. Talk to him again when we all return to Edoras. My uncle has promised a great feast upon his return. We have to go back to Edoras with all haste to prepare," Éowyn said, trying to soothe me.

I nodded stiffly and we led our horses out of the stalls and stable. We found that the soldiers were escorting us back to Edoras, save a few that were going with Théoden, Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, and Éomer to Isengard. I mounted Narmírë and looked around. The company was sitting on their horses, waiting to leave until the company for Edoras left. I looked at Legolas and smile. He put one hand to his chest and then raised it a little. I repeated the gesture, knowing it to be an Elven farewell. I looked to the opposite side of the line and found that Éomer was staring at me strangely. I felt my face fall as I looked at him and tears came to my eyes. He gave me a slow nod, and I considered not returning the gesture. But feeling that would be rude, I gave a curt nod before turning my horse and following the crowd out of the fortress.

The journey to Edoras was not nearly as long the journey to Helm's Deep had been. While we did have to stop at nightfall to rest, the air seemed lighter around the group this time. I spent most of my time in the tent, continuing to rest. My throat was still sore from the storytelling and singing, but it was passing quickly due to the drafts that the healers had given me. Some of them had traveled with us to treat the not so direly wounded. The severely wounded had stayed at Helm's Deep with their families until they were healed or died.

The group got an early start the next day, and we made it back to Edoras before midday. The rest of the day and the day after was a frenzy of activity. All of the refugees that had traveled with us, whether they were from Edoras or not, were staying for the feast and festival. Most of the refugees would be attending the dance that would be held in one of the squares about halfway through Edoras.

But the court was having a gathering of their own in the Golden Hall. I had been invited by Éowyn specifically, though I would have been more than happy to remain in my room throughout the festivities. I did not have the heart for merriment, despite having so much to be merry about. Éomer was back, but he most likely hated me. All of my friends had survived the battle and were relatively unhurt, save a few minor bumps and bruises.

Éowyn had convinced me to get a dress of my own made for the feast. She claimed that I did not have a proper dress for this occasion, but I was not as convinced. Any of my dresses would have done, but she dragged me to the tailor anyway and set the place to making a new dress for me. It was to be a gorgeous thing, a beautiful shade of green that brought out the green part of my eyes. She also was lending me the hair comb that I had used for Théodred's funeral.

It was to be a grand event, and all of the food that was being cooked showed that. I was unsure where all of the food had come from, but it was more food than I had ever seen in the city at one time. There was to be a pig roasted on the spit in the middle of the Golden Hall, along with all other kinds of delicious dishes.

A full day after we arrived at the Golden Hall, Théoden's company arrived and were accompanied by two very strange characters. They were no taller than my mid-chest, and had curly mops of hair on top of their ears, out of which poked strangely pointed ears. They wore their pants slightly cropped, and as I looked down, I could see why. They had truly huge feet, the tops of which were covered in thick hair. They introduced themselves as Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took. They were delightful little creatures called Hobbits, which I found most curious, but it made more sense after Mithrandir explained that they were what Gondorians called _periannath_, or Halflings.

I found their company to be pleasant, but I was most grateful to have Legolas back. It nice to have him help me with my tasks, which I found curious. He was an Elven prince, after all. But when I questioned him about it, he explained that his mother had made him working one full year with the servants of his house to gain an understanding of how his world was kept in order. He found it to be a good experience, and relished in the manual labor.

But the day of the great feast dawned, and there was a great aura of excitement in the air. Everyone had rested and healed enough to enjoy themselves fully. The smell of cooking food, especially roasting pig, wafted through the Golden Hall all day, and I only ate small meals, knowing that I would eat my full at the feast later that night.

My dress arrived with mere hours to spare, and I was grateful. I bathed fully, and I oiled my hair with sweet scents that made my curls fall perfectly. I pulled some of my hair back and secured it with the comb. It was not the same one that Éowyn had given me for the funeral, because the dress had been altered slightly from its original design and the other clip no longer matched. This was more of a circlet than a clip or comb, but it only circled the back portion of my head. It was of intricate leaf and vine design and it was accented by small emeralds. I slipped into the dress and it fit me like a glove. It was fitted to me properly, the first dress of its kind that I wore that actually was. The neckline sat slightly off of my shoulders, an appropriate cut for a late formal feast. The sleeves stopped slightly after my elbows and scooped slightly from there, but a tighter layer continued to my wrists under it. There was a border of silver along the cuff of the larger sleeve, and around the neck line. My dark hair tumbled over my shoulders beautifully, and I could not help but feel like a queen. Éowyn had lent me a silver belt to wear at my hips, and the front of the belt draped down the center of my dress. But my favorite thing about the dress was the color. It was the shade of peat moss, and it made my eyes turn to a wonderful shade of teal. The dress also came with a wrapper of the same color that had a black fur, but I knew that I would not need it once the party began. I left it draped it over my chair in my room and I went to check on Éowyn.

I found that she was waiting in her room, fully ready. She wore a beautifully simple blue underdress, but she wore an extravagant corset with sleeves attached. The sleeves were split almost all the way up the arm so the beautiful fabric flared out when she raised her arms. The fabric was blue but had a gold sheen to it in the light that created these beautiful patterns. The front was incrusted in jewels, and it took my breath away. She smiled at me, and looked me over.

"You look stunning. There are very few people that can wear that shade of green, but I knew that you would be one of them," she said happily.

I had felt that I was beautiful until I stood next to Éowyn looking at us in the looking glass. I looked plain next to her, but she thought that I was extravagant. We left her room and went to the great hall where we could hear voices growing louder as more people arrived. The honored of the battle were invited to dine with us tonight, and the place was packed near to breaking.

Éowyn brought me to a table near the front of the room where many of our friend were already sitting. She sat me down next to her near the head of the table, and I felt uncomfortable. I should be closer to the end of the table with the king's lieutenant and personal guard sat. I did not belong among the royal family and their guests. I felt a little more comfortable as Legolas sat on my other side, but that comfort went away as Éomer sat down opposite me. Gandalf and Aragorn sat directly on the king's left and right respectively, but Éomer and Éowyn sat next to them, followed by myself, Legolas, Gimli, and then the _periannath_ sat on Gimli's other side. The king had not arrived, but he was going to sit at the head of the table.

We were all seated and waiting for the meal to start. I could smell the food, and I felt my true hunger. I wanted to tear into the pig with my bare hands, but I waited. Legolas noticed when I was staring at it, and whispered a teasing remark in my ear. I laughed and nudged him with my shoulder. I could not help but to glance at Éomer. He was dressed handsomely that night. He wore a green-grey shirt and a red jerkin over it. It was simple, but Éomer was never one to dress extravagantly. I knew that there were the clothes that he wore under his armor, because he had several of each piece made because he liked them so much. He did it so he could always slip into his armor if he needed to, and not have to go through the hassle of taking off clothes only to put more back on. Éomer caught my glance and I looked away quickly, a little embarrassed that I had been staring. Legolas caught my hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze to show his support.

After what felt like a few awkward hours, Théoden entered the hall. Everyone stood and turned to face the king. Éowyn moved away and brought the king a very elaborate goblet. She bowed slightly before him and he took it. He held it out and looked at everyone gathered around the room.

"Tonight we honor those who gave their blood to defend this country," Théoden said loudly.

Everyone picked up a cup before them. I found my goblet of wine and picked it up.

"Hail the victorious dead," Théoden said, raising the cup slightly.

"Hail!" Everyone shouted back.

I thought if anyone I knew personally was missing from the festivities tonight, and my heart immediately went to Boromir, and Théodred. They did not die in the battle, but they gave their blood to defend their country.

_We are all Men here tonight._

Éowyn's words came back to me at that moment, and I realized that it was true. The all-consuming evil that spread from Mordor did not just affect one land, it affected everyone. So I drank for Boromir and Théodred, because even though they did not die to defend the Hornburg, they died to defend Middle-Earth, and that made them part of the victorious dead. I noticed that Legolas had also hesitated in drinking, but I could see the sadness in his eyes. He must have lost someone close to his heart in the battle. I looked up at him curiously and he smiled.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: For some reason, everytime I come on this site, it feels like I haven't posted in forever. But, it's only been a few days. But I know everyone is super eager to know what happens next. But I'm going to stall a little bit longer, and do some review responses!**

**deepofnight: Thank you for your first review. Is this soon enough for you?**

**Certh: As my beta commands (ish), I will be continuing to put the translations in the brackets. The Elvish and Rohirric gets quite extensive, and I do not want anyone to get confused. Also, **

**heart0nmysh0e: Yes, you are inventing that romance, my dear. Firstly, I've mentioned at least twice that Legolas had a wife before he even went to Helm's Deep. Secondly, to make it perfectly clear, Haldir and the Lorien elves weren't even at Helm's Deep. I like Haldir too much to kill him. If you do like Haldir, and would like to get more of him, I have another little series going called "Love Mingled With Grief" that's about Haldir...and yes, there is the drinking game in this chapter.**

**Lystan & : MUHAHAHA! I know that I've done my job right when I have people yelling at me through their screens to stop building up tension. And, just a warning, it gets worse, and then a little better, and then much worse before the end. But that's all you're getting. (I didn't lump you together to be mean; you just had similar reviews)**

**Willow: Good to hear from you again! I'll be done looking over that part you sent me in more detail tonight, but from the glance I took, it should be pretty much good to go if you want to publish.  
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**Also, I got bored, so I made a banner for the story in Photoshop! I put the link below, so just remove the spaces when you copy and paste it into your navigation bar to see it. Let me know if you like it, and maybe I'll make another one. Or better yet, if you have the time or the inclination, you can make one and the email it to me for me to see. PM for my email. **

**flic. kr / p / bXzQS1**

**Now on with the story!  
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><p>Théoden came down from the throne and sat at the table with us. Everyone settled down, and I could feel my mouth watering in anticipation of the meal. Théoden had his food served to him, but I knew better than to dig in. A man came forward, a frail looking man, and he took a bite of everything that would be served tonight. We waited anxiously as the royal poison taster stood completely still. He had to make sure that nothing that would be served to the king or his royal guests was poisoned. After several tense and silent minutes, the poison taster smiled at the crowd. The food was safe to eat.<p>

A great cheer came up and everyone dug in. I resisted eating like a barbarian, because I knew that there was more food to replace everything I could eat ten times over. The roast pig was better than my expectations, and I nearly died and went to join my fathers from the sheer delight of the whole meal. The Golden Hall had served me many meals before, but none of them came close to this level of deliciousness. The _periannath_ [Halflings] ate greedily, and they told the most marvelous stories. I found myself laughing heartily at their tales from their homeland.

About halfway through the meal, they got into a good natured dispute over who, exactly, was at fault for one of their misadventures.

"It was Bilbo's 111th birthday party, my lady. And it was also our good friend Frodo's 33rd birthday. That is particularly special because that's when Hobbits come of age," Merry was saying, talking through his food.

I nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"Well, Gandalf is quite famous for his fireworks in the Shire, and he had brought a whole wagon load to the birthday party to light off. So Pippin decided that we should help," Merry went on.

Pippin nearly choked on his mug of ale, but Gimli gave him a good thump on the back and the matter was settled.

"I remember that you told me to climb into the wagon and get the biggest one we could find. You told me to do it, Merry," Pippin cried indignantly.

"Only because you said that we should help Gandalf set off fireworks because he was going too slow," Merry said, trying to sound like he was reasoning with Pippin.

"I said nothing of the kind!" Pippin cried.

Everyone laughed as they argued about the details and I smiled as I looked around the table. I noticed that Éomer was looking at me again, and I looked down at my plate, blushing. Soon the main course was removed and desserts of all kinds and flavors were served. I indulged in a slice of my favorite cake with thick frosting. It was rare that I got to eat something so rich, so I savored every bite. I moaned a little at the first bite, relishing at the taste and how the cake practically melted in my mouth. I heard a chuckle to my side and I turned to look at Legolas. He was laughing at me, so I looked at him questioning.

"You have frosting on your lip," he said with a chuckle.

I gasped a little, which only caused him to laugh more. I tried to wipe it away, but despite my best efforts, it was not coming off. Legolas finally grew tired of my efforts and wiped it away with his own thumb. I rolled my eyes, feeling childish, but we laughed the moment away. I could feel the happy buzz of the wine starting to affect me, but I knew I was far from drunk. I knew what my limit was, and I was not close.

Soon enough, the tables were cleared away and people milled around as the barrels of ale and wine were brought out and space was cleared for dancing. I found a chair near one of the corners of the room, not feeling very comfortable in the large space. Éowyn had left to do a ceremonial duty, which I accepted. I was happy enough to watch everyone dance and be merry.

I glanced around the room, and I found that Éomer was standing with Legolas, and there was a little bit of a crowd gathered around them. I went over to the group and found the Gimli was seated at a table. There were several mugs littering the table in front of the two, and the crowd had gathered to watch. The elf was calmly drinking mug after mug, and Gimli, determined not to be outdone, was lapping his up greedily. Gimli slammed another mug down and started laughing hysterically.

"It's the dwarves that go swimming with little hairy women," he said, slurring his words.

I laughed along with the rest, recognizing a drunken man when I saw one. I looked at Legolas, and I found that he had not changed his cool demeanor. A few mugs later, and Legolas stopped to look at his fingers.

"I feel something…a slight tingling in my fingers," Legolas said, apparently amazed.

I looked at him curiously as he looked at Éomer, his face showing his concern.

"I think it may be affecting me," he said gravely.

Gimli slammed another mug onto the table. "What did I tell ya? He can't hold his liquor… " Gimli said, his words now very slurred.

The dwarf swayed slightly on the spot before falling backwards onto the floor, unconscious. Legolas looked up with a smirk.

"Game over," he said with a confident chuckle.

The rest of the men laughed and the crowd quickly dispersed. I moved among the edges of the crowds near the dance floor. A small band was playing a lively tune, and many couples were dancing happily. I smiled at their mirth, but I could not find the joy in my heart to join them. I went back to my corner, and sat down with a cup of wine in my hand. I glanced around the room again, and my eyes landed on Éomer. He was laughing with some of the men he commanded. He was enjoying himself, but I could not find the strength to do so myself. I sighed, and I took another sip of wine.

Then I felt a presence next to me. I looked up and saw that Theoden was standing beside me. I quickly stood and did a quick curtsy, but he waved away the formality. He was smiling at me.

"Why is a pretty maiden like you sitting in the corner? This night is for the young, and you are young," he said with a laugh.

"I just have not found anything to do. I am content to sit here," I said with a smile.

"Since you do not have anything to do, will you induldge an old man with a dance?" he asked with what might have been a dashing smile.

I laughed, but found that I could not refuse. He led me onto the dance floor as the band started another lively tune. The king was an excellent dancer, despite his age. He joked with me, and I felt like I was dancing with my father, not a king of men. After the song was over, I curtsied and he escorted me away from the dancing.

We parted as he went to mingle with his people and I found that my corner of the room was taken. Legolas was sitting in my chair, as if he was waiting for me. I could have avoided him, but I decided against it. I went over and he stood up as I approached.

"I saw your game with Gimli. Is he doing well?" I asked after we greeted each other.

"Yes. They've taken him to the guest hall. He can sleep off the alcohol until the morn. I will not envy the headache he will have," Legolas said with a laugh.

"Did the alcohol not affect you at all? Surely elves are not completely immune to the brew," I joked.

Legolas laughed and shook his head. "We elves drink something a little stronger in Greenwood. Ale has little more affect than water," Legolas said proudly.

He was simply debonair tonight, and it was a sight worth laughing at. He laughed with me. After our laughter subsided, I looked around the room again. Éomer was still drinking with his friends, and my smile faded again.

"They way to make him notice you is not to sit in the corner, drinking wine by yourself," Legolas said softly.

He had come up very close behind me, so close that I could feel his ribs brushing against my back as he breathed and the heat from his skin touched my skin, even through all of the clothing. I sighed and shook my head.

"I haven't just been sitting in a corner. I watched your drinking game. I danced," I said, a little defensively.

Legolas laughed again. "If you wish to make him jealous, then find a partner that is worthy of being jealous over," Legolas said.

I laughed and looked around the room. All of the handsome men were too far gone from alcohol for me to consider dancing with them. It would just end terribly.

"How about that fellow?" I said, pointing to a slightly older man.

He might have been handsome in his past, but now a scar ran down the side of his face, marring his features. But he was not swimming in alcohol and seemed respectable.

"No, he is too old. And his wife is one of the cooks. She would kill you for dancing with her husband," Legolas said, suddenly very serious.

"How about that one?" I said, pointing to one of the younger soldiers. He was drinking a little, but he was handsome enough.

"Oh, much too young. He has barely come of age. He would not know what to do with a woman on the dance floor," Legolas said, sounding almost a little disgusted.

"Well, they are the only two who has not been drowned in alcohol and are even remotely handsome enough to make Éomer jealous," I said, throwing up my hands in indignation.

"Well, there is one other. He's much, much too old for you, but is still very handsome," Legolas said thoughtfully.

"And who would that be, Legolas? I do not see him," I said, trying to spot this older, but handsome man.

"Turn around," Legolas breathed in my ear with a chuckle.

I turned and Legolas was holding his hand out to me. I laughed and gladly accepted his invitation to dance. Legolas was a marvelous dance partner and he was rather possessive of me on the dance floor. He would not let anyone else dance with me, even when I was asked. And it was hard to argue with someone who was so adamant. He had me laughing until I felt like I was going to collapse from it all. I did not once look to find Éomer in the crowd because I was having too much fun with Legolas.

After four or five dances, I had to beg him to let me rest for a moment. The dances were fast and I could barely breathe. I collapsed into a chair, laughing. I accepted another glass of wine and drank it to help cool my parched throat.

"And you wanted to sit in a corner all evening. This is a night for celebrating, so I have helped you celebrate," Legolas said rather boisterously, and I could not help but to laugh.

Then a new dance started up, a slower one this time, and Legolas pulled me to my feet before I could protest. He held me very close, and practically carried me through the motions of the dance.

"You are a divine dancer, my prince," I said softly with a giggle.

Legolas laughed and looked down at me. "Please don't ever call me that again. You can call me anything else, except "my prince". I want to forget I'm royalty sometimes, and reminding me only makes me sad," Legolas said, sound the most serious he had been all night.

"So can I call you 'my nasty, ugly Orc'?" I teased with another giggle.

Legolas smiled at me. "If it means that you aren't going to call me prince, then yes," he said very seriously.

I threw my head back and laughed, and Legolas twirled me in the dance. He then pulled me very close so his lips were to my ear.

"Éomer has been watching us all night," he whispered.

We skillfully twirled so I could get a full view of the room, and I saw that Éomer was indeed watching us. He was half glaring at us over the rim of his mug, but he was still watching.

"I told you this would get him jealous," Legolas said, sounding a little more than triumphant.

"I do not want him to dislike you, Legolas. You are a dear friend of mine, and I would not like you two to be at odds with each other," I said softly.

"I will suffer his wrath if it means that he is fighting for you," Legolas said, all traces of humor gone.

I looked down and found that the song was ending.

"You belong together, and I am going to see to it that it is done," he said in my ear.

Then he unexpected placed a lingering kiss on the corner of my mouth near my cheek.

"Go get your wrapper and go outside. He will follow you," Legolas whispered before bowing and kissing the back of my hand.

I curtsied and followed his instructions. I would have gone right outside, but Legolas knew better than I. I was thankful that I did get my wrapper because it was a cold night.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: SURPRISE! BONUS CHAPTER! This is a special thank you to everyone. We've just passed 11,000 hits, and over 100 reviews. The overwhelmingly positive response I've been getting on this story has been extremely humbling, and I hope that this continues. But, for now, this is the best thanks I can give you. You've been asking, and now you shall receive. Enjoy.**

**Also, don't forget to take a look at the little banner I made if you didn't before.  
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****flic. kr / p / bXzQS1****

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><p>The party was starting to die down out here, as it was in the great hall. Many people had drunk beyond their fill of ale, and had collapsed onto the floor of the hall. Many had retreated to their chambers, but there were still some that were drinking heavily.<p>

"There you are. It is like I haven't seen you all night," I heard a voice say pleasantly from behind me.

I turned and saw that Éomer was standing near the doors. I had moved to one of the parapets and looked out toward the mountains. He walked over to me, but I said nothing.

"Did you not see me at dinner? For it seemed that every time I looked, you were staring at me," I said with a teasing smirk. Éomer laughed a little.

"Yes, I cannot deny that I did see you. There was much for me to see tonight," Éomer said, his voice going a little bitter.

I sighed and looked to the east. The red glow of Mordor was clearly visible on the horizon, and it seemed brighter than ever.

"I was raised in a city that dwelt in the ever-present shadow of Mordor. I grew used to it, like every citizen did. But I am still surprised that the glow is visible here," I said with a sigh.

Éomer stepped a little closer, and a breeze came suddenly. It sent a visible shiver up my spine. Éomer saw it and drew me into him. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and I laid my head on his chest.

"Do you ever wish that things could go back to how they were before all this disaster began? Life was simpler then. Now everything is so confusing," I said softly, feeling tears coming to my eyes.

Éomer turned his face so his cheek rested on the top of my head. "I know how you feel. Everything was so simple," Éomer said with a soft sigh.

His breath tickled the top of my head. I felt so warm and relaxed in his arms. Perhaps Legolas was right; we might just belong together.

"I know what happened to Boromir," Éomer said after a long moment of silence.

I pulled away slightly to look at him with a questioning glance.

"Legolas told me. He told me that he was the one in Gondor that held your heart, but he was slain in battle. Was that before or after you came here?" Éomer asked.

I tried to figure out his meaning from his face, but it was growing darker as more lanterns were extinguished in the city and his face was barely visible.

"He was slain after I came here, but I did not learn of it until after you… left," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Éomer nodded, but did not speak. He continued to study my face intently.

"You said that you kept your promises to me. I only recall asking you one thing that you agreed to," Éomer said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes, but I was unable to keep myself from fulfill your second request," I said, my voice a little breathless.

Éomer nodded and pulled me back into his embrace.

"I am happy to see you, Braedia, regardless of my actions before," Éomer said into my hair.

I could not help the warm feeling that spread through me upon hearing my name come from his lips. I snuggled my face deeper into his chest, and wrapped my arms around him. To this point, I had kept my arms inside of my wrapper for warmth. But I felt the need to return his embrace.

I wanted to speak and ask him so many questions, but I did not want to ruin this perfect silence between us. The breeze was blowing gently, and the end of my hair drifted lazily in it. Éomer's fingers captured one curly lock and started curling it around his gently. It was such a comforting motion. I could have fallen asleep to the sound of his beating heart and the feel of his finger in my hair.

My eyes closed as I memorized his scent. Honey, grass, and horses. And a little bit of ale, but that was to be expected. He smelled so different from any man that I had ever been this close to. Legolas smelled clean, like a fresh mountain stream with the slightest hint of leather. Boromir…

I struggled to remember his scent. I could remember the distinct smell of citrus, because he used citrus soap. But I could not remember anything else. Even as I tried to remember his face, I could only recall the things that had struck me distinctly. His smile, wide and carefree. His eyes, lively but deep, like the Forbidden Pool in Ithilien. There was once a time where I could see his face in my mind's eye as clearly as if he were standing before me. But now I fought to remember the correct height of his cheek bones, or the accurate curve of his eyebrows. Even as I tried to remember, I found that this did not bother me. It had been many years since I last saw him, and it was only right that I would start to forget him. A few days ago, this forgetting would be alarming. But here, in Éomer's arms, it seemed perfectly natural to forget Boromir.

Éomer pulled me a little closer as he felt my grip slackening, but I pulled away to look at him. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and I could see every line of his face. He wore his hair down, and it was falling in his face. I reached up and gently moved his hair away. My hand trailed down the side of his face. It had been many days since he last shaved and his scruff was prominent on his cheeks. My fingertips stopped at his temple so my palm came level with his cheek. His eyes were looking through me again, and it sent a chill down my spine.

Éomer pulled me closer as he felt my shiver, even though that one had little to do with the cold. Éomer titled his face so my hand was cupping the side of face. He breathed in deeply and turned to kiss my wrist lightly. He removed one of his hands from around me, and put it over my hand on the side of his face. His other hand had moved to rest on the curve of my waist. The intensity of his gaze began to make me nervous, but it was a strange, almost pleasant, nervousness. It felt like the anxiety one normally gets before opening a surprise package that came from a favorite relative.

He moved my hand to his chest, over his heart, but he kept his hand over mine. I licked my lips, for they had suddenly gone dry. Éomer moved his face to my ear and breathed deeply. I felt another child run down my spine and Éomer pulled me still closer to his body. I could feel his strong arm around me, and I found that my breaths were quivering. Éomer moved away from my hair so his face was mere inches from my own. I licked my lips again and I saw his eyes flicker to them for a moment. I could not help but think of how his lips had felt on my cheek the day he left. I shivered again, and Éomer closed the remaining gap between our lips.

His lips touched mine with a little hesitation at first. But as I responded to his movement, his lips became a little more forceful. I felt as if all of the air had been removed from my body. I had never been kissed like this before, not by Boromir, not by any other man. Éomer's kisses were urgent, but gentle. He wanted me to enjoy it. And I did; very much so. I had dreamed about how his lips would feel against my own, and now I knew. He tasted like the honey that was in his scent, but I could also taste to bitterness of the ale, which I honestly did not mind.

I pulled away after a moment, but he brought me back after only a short respite. I could feel my head spinning, and I thought that I would faint, if it weren't for his strong arms around me. My own arms had wound themselves around his neck. After what felt like a lifeage, we pulled away and looked at each other with half-lidded eyes.

I was smiling brightly, but Éomer looked confused. I felt my smile fade as he pulled away from me further. I was now confused as he released me and took a step away, a hand on his forehead. I felt the cold as soon as his arms were not around me, and it made me only want to return more.

"Éomer, what is it?" I asked in a whisper, taking a step toward him.

But he took a step back to match my step forward and shook his head.

"I feel that I must retire. Good-night, Braedia," Éomer said quickly, swallowing hard.

I felt tears in my eyes. He bowed quickly and went back into the hall. I took three or four steps to follow him, and I called out his name, but he did not turn. I felt tears slipping down my cheeks. How could he kiss me like that, and then run? I put a hand to my lips, and I could still feel his lips on my own. I still could taste him in my mouth. Had he not felt the tremors of my pleasure in my spine? Had he not felt the pounding of my heart in time with his own?

I went after him at a brisk walk, but he had disappeared into his chambers. I looked around and saw that the party had died completely now, and I was unsure of how long we had been out there. Èowyn was collapsed on one of the couches and was asleep. I went to my chambers, and fell heavily onto my own bed. I let a few tears of utter frustration slip out of my eyes. Why did Éomer run away? Was the kiss not enjoyable? It had been some time since I had kissed a man like that, but Boromir always complimented me on my kisses. But had I fallen out of practice?

The questions ran over and over in my head, but I felt my limbs turning heavy with exhaustion. Soon enough, I was forced under into sleep, despite the fact that I had not come to any satisfactory answers to my questions.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: So I'm glad that everyone liked their present. I'm going to try and get as many chapters up as quick as I can. I am more than excited for you to read some of the future chapters that I've written. Things only get better from here :)**

**Willow: Yes, jealous Eomer was funny. I almost wanted to write their first kiss from his perspective, but it worked better like it was written.**

**Certh: You are such a good beta. Have I thanked you lately? Because I feel like I should for all of the bull you put up with :)**

**MinNinniach: The day we understand men is the day the world ends. But they keep life entertaining at the very least.**

**Bluebonnet: He's not necessarily crazy, just a little indecisive. And plus, there's so much more story. I can't just have them fall in love just yet.**

** brandi: If Eomer got his act together, then I would have nothing to write about.**

**Lady of Sign: I'm glad that you enjoyed the kiss, considering you were the one really pushing for it.**

**I'm starting my summer job officially now, which means my weekends are going to be sort of eaten by the giant monster of adulthood. But, I'll still be posting during the week and whenever I can.**

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><p>The next morning, I woke up to sunlight streaming into the room. I groaned a little as I sat up. I should not have had so much wine; my head was hurting, but not immensely so. It was manageable. I went to my looking glass, and found that I was still reasonably presentable. I ran a comb through my hair to detangle the curls, trying to remember what had happened last night. Many of my memories were hazy. I remembered Legolas and Gimli's drinking game, dancing with the king, dancing with Legolas, going outside…<p>

...and then the memory of my time with Éomer came flooding back. Every detail was clear as if it had just happened. I touched my fingers to my lips, and they still tingled from the kiss. But with the memory came the questions. Why had he run away? Why did he even kiss me if he knew that he was going to run away? Because he had been the one to start the kiss. Had it been out of jealousy over my relationship with Legolas? Or did he mean it? Or was it just a product of the ale he had?

My heart sank a little at this last possibility. He had said that he was happy to see me, but he had not said that he had feelings for me. Maybe he only kissed me because I was there. I straightened my dress and smoothed some of the wrinkles. I would just have to go talk to him. I could not handle this anticipation any longer.

I walked swiftly from my room and went straight to his door. It was closed, and I stood in front of it. Back in my room, marching to his door to discuss this felt like a good idea. But now that I was there, I was hesitant to knock. What if he was still sleeping? The morning after heavy drinking was never a pleasant one for many people. I was loath to disturb him and risk his cold demeanor again, but I needed to know. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders again. I would just have to face him, no matter his mood.

I raised a fist to knock when someone called my name from down the hall. I turned and saw that it was Éowyn. I turned to her as she approached.

"I did not see you much at the party last night," she said casually.

She was dressed in a different dress and looked like she had already bathed. I smiled at her.

"Yes, Legolas held my attention for much of the evening. And then I spent some time with Éomer. Speaking of your brother, is he still sleeping?" I said quickly, pointing at the door next to us.

Éowyn laughed but shook her head. "He is out helping bury the bodies returning from Helm's Deep. He was up about an hour ago. He may join us for dinner, if the work does not keep him. There are so many to bury," Éowyn said, her mood falling.

I nodded, sighing. I could not go down to the burial grounds. That would be rude. I would just have to wait for him to return to speak.

"You missed it this morning. Gandalf left with one of the Halflings for Minas Tirith. I was going to wake you, but Legolas said that you should sleep," she said, dragging me back to her chamber.

She sat me down and set about the task of untangling the hair piece from my hair. I had forgotten to take it out, and my hair was wound around it tightly.

"I see," I said, now a little sad.

I would have liked to return to the White City, despite my banishment. I longed for her high walls and winding alleys. I did not feel the longing often, but when I did, it was something that physically hurt. I sighed, and I concentrated on Éowyn's efforts.

"So you said that you spent some time with my brother?" Éowyn questioned, her voice a little sly.

I sighed again, my questions returning to my head. Maybe Éowyn could help my mental turmoil.

"Yes. We stood out on one of the parapets for a while last night. Can I ask you a question, Éowyn?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

She said that I could and I took a deep breath before asking, trying to choose my words carefully.

"Does your brother often do things that he doesn't mean when he has too much to drink?" I asked slowly.

Éowyn stopped her work for a moment to consider but went back to it quickly.

"He never does anything that he does not mean, even under the influence of alcohol. He is not the sort of person to act on an impulse, which makes him a very good leader. He is not rash, despite his harsh temper. Why? Did something happen?" Éowyn asked, getting excited that there might be a juicy piece of gossip.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, not knowing whether to tell her or not. I never kept anything from her before, even about Boromir, but this felt different. I sighed and looked down.

"I am going to have to swear you to secrecy, Éowyn. I do not want this to become the next piece of servant gossip," I said a little intensely.

Éowyn swore that she would not breathe a word to a soul and I sighed again.

"Éomer and I…kissed last night," I said, my voice a whisper.

"You kissed? Like a peck on the cheek?" Éowyn said, getting excited.

I shook my head.

"On the lips?" Éowyn asked, now her voice turning to disbelief. I nodded.

"For how long?" Éowyn asked, breathless with excitement and disbelief.

"It felt like an eternity," I said with a dreamy sigh as I remembered it.

Éowyn laughed a few chuckles, but they were short and breathy. I turned in my seat to look at her. Her eyes were wide and she had a strange smile on his face. She shook her head and then she turned back to me.

"What happened after the kiss?" Éowyn asked, turning me back around.

I sighed, feeling the hurt all over again.

"He pulled away, and then stepped back. I tried to approach him, but he would not allow me to come closer. Then he just ran back into the hall and into his chambers. He wouldn't even look at me," I said, my voice breaking. I kept my tears back, despite how they burned the back of my eyes.

"Huh," Éowyn huffed, a little thoughtfully.

She pulled the hair piece from my tangled mass of hair at last, and I turned to look at her. She had a thoughtful, distant look on her face, and I wanted her to tell me what she was thinking about.

"Does he normally do things like this?" I asked a little desperately.

"No, not at all. When he knows what he wants, he goes after it with the intensity of a wolf after its prey. I thought that he knew that he wanted you, but after this, it makes me think that he does not know," Éowyn said, sitting in her own chair.

I groaned, frustrated. I thought that he knew what he wanted too. He asked me to save my heart for him. But then I thought about it again. He did not ask me to save my heart _for him_, he just asked me to not give it away until he came back. I stood and stormed about the room, angry.

"What is it?" Éowyn asked, sounding concerned.

"I also thought that he knew that he wanted my heart, because he asked me not to give it away. But now that you say this, I find him to be very selfish. He did not want me to give my heart away to anyone, so I did what he asked. I thought that he meant that he wanted me to save it for him. But now I see that he just did not want me to fall for any other man. And when he gets back, he just wants to play with my heart. It is all so frustrating," I said, throwing my hands in wild gestures in my anger and frustration.

"Éomer is not the kind to play games. He always tells women where they stand with him. This is why this is so difficult to figure out what is going on his head. This is new behavior for Éomer," Éowyn said, trying to calm my anger.

"How is he not playing games. He asked me not to give away my heart, so I did what he asked. He returns, and I want to give my heart to him, and then does this romantic gesture of sweeping me up into one of the best kisses of my life-"

"It was that good, huh?" Éowyn teased with a laugh.

"That is beside my point. My point is that he cannot expect me not think that the kiss meant nothing," I said, her teasing only making me angrier.

"I do not think that the kiss meant nothing to him," Éowyn said, and I could tell her patience was wearing thin.

"Then tell me, my friend. What do you think it meant to him? Because I have trying to figure that out and I cannot come to a logical conclusion," I said, my words biting and sarcastic.

Éowyn sighed and closed her eyes. "I cannot begin to tell you what goes on in that man's head. But like I said, Éomer does not do things on a whim or impulse. He meant to kiss you. As to why he ran away, I am not sure," Éowyn said.

I groaned in frustration and I felt like breaking something. I wanted to spar desperately, but I knew that no one would be around to go with me. But then my thoughts perked up a little. There would be one person that would go with me.

"With your permission, Éowyn, I would like to be excused from my duties today," I said, my tone returning to my usual soft one.

Éowyn looked a little concerned, but said that I could be excused. I gave her a short nod and went back to my room.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Wow...I am once again astounded and humbled by everything that has been happening with this story. At the time of publishing this chapter, "Even This Darkness Must Pass" has nearly 14,000 hits. I am at a complete loss for words (which is quite an achievement, so Gold Sticky Star for all of you). I've probably said this a million and a half times, but this story was literally just brain crack for me, and, when I posted the first chapter, I was hoping for maybe a couple hundred views max. But thank you thank you thank you for everything you guys. The reviews you post are so thoughtful and positive that it really takes a lot of effort for me not to post a new chapter every day (which stems from a slightly irrational fear that, if I don't do what you want, you'll stop reading). And speaking of reviews, here come the responses!**

** CrocScale: Thank you for your first review (I think? I used to have such a good idea of when someone new posts a review). But if you think confused Eomer is silly and frustrating now, let me just assure you that it's only going to get worse.**

**brandi: Once again, Eomer's behavior is only going to get worse. I wrote his actions (a good chunk of them at least) and there are still times where I want to grab him by the collar and shake him until he realizes he loves Braedia. But then I remember that I know what happens and it makes me feel better about dragging this out.**

**MinNinniach: I like Eowyn too. She doesn't get enough screen time, so I give her ample page time.**

**WV: Can I call you that? Have we reached that point in our relationship? I'm assuming that you've read to this point because I haven't heard from you since chapter 1 (as of 5/19/12)...But thank you for your first review. And thank you for your glowing praise. My general philosophy for writing fan fiction is this: I write what I want to read. I don't want to read garbage, so I don't write garbage (although I used to, and don't even ask because none of it is ever going to see the light of day as is). I actually really like first-person perspective because it has an inherent level of tension because you aren't privy to the thoughts and feelings of any other characters except for the one through whose eyes you are seeing the events. If I'm going to shift point of view, it's because the viewpoint character is out of commission and there are events that need to happen in order to further the plot, and that shift will always be to third person. As far as Braedia's age in comparison to Faramir, she's actually older by two years, which makes her younger than Boromir by three years. Because the three were raised together, Faramir sees Braedia like a sister, which would make him justifiably teary over her sudden departure. **

**LightsCDark: Thank you for your first review. First off, awesome pen name. I've tried really hard to make it seem like you're experiencing this world and its events through Braedia's eyes. Your comment is one of the biggest compliments you can give a fan fiction writer (besides your work is better than the original, which I would not accept because Prof. Tolkien is a genius and nothing can live up to what he created, but I digress). I have no judgment about people whose first language is not English spelling our words wrong. And honestly, there are some days that I'm not even sure MY first language is English. **

**Once again, thank you for all of the wonderful things you say. You take the time out of your day to review, so I feel that it is only fair to take the time out of mine to respond, even if it's just to say thanks. And one more tidbit: only 20 more chapters to go before the end (and then a bonus chapter). But on with the story.**

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><p>I quickly changed out of my dress and I laid it carefully over the chair to be laundered. I changed into breeches and a tunic with a jerkin. It was a different set than the ones I wore to Helm's Deep. I had gathered a large supply of them because of my lessons with Éomer requiring breeches. I put on my belt, sword and quiver and slid my feet into my soft leather boots. I walked swiftly out of the hall and into the stables.<p>

While I went, I looked carefully for Legolas. I knew that he would go with me to spar. I found him near the stables, conversing with a guard. I smiled and walked quickly up to him. Legolas saw me coming and finished his conversation with the guard quickly.

"You look ready for a battle," Legolas teased gently.

"Do you care to go for a ride with me? I need to let off some frustration," I said softly, glancing around.

Legolas smiled at me. "Of course. It has been some time since I rode a horse for fun. Perhaps you can show me your skills with the blade and bow," Legolas said, motioning to the stable.

I went to Narmírë's stall and she snorted happily when she saw me. Legolas and I quickly saddled our horses and led them out of the stable. We rode quickly out of the city and out into the plains. I looked behind me, and I saw that there were many men digging graves and many people gathered around them to give their loved ones a proper farewell. I looked away quickly, and I allowed myself to think about the gravediggers.

Legolas and I rode at a slow gallop until the city was but a small dot in the distance. We came to a group of rocks that formed a loose circle. We dismounted and allowed the horses to graze.

"So we are to spar? Rules?" Legolas asked, pulling out his blades from his back. He twirled them gracefully and I rolled my eyes at his gloating.

"Nothing dirty. Touch only," I said with a smirk. I unsheathed my sword and twirled in my wrist to get the feel for it in my hand.

"Fair," Legolas said.

He walked over a few feet from me. We stared each other down for a moment, and I could feel my frustrating rising. But I would not allow myself to be the first to strike in anger. He took a step to the left, and I matched him. We circled for a moment, and I matched his movement carefully. Then suddenly, he lunged at me and the fight was on. He was a strong fighter, and I found it difficult to start attacking. So I focused my energy on defending. It was difficult to fight someone with two blades, but I found the effort to be challenging. I could almost feel that Legolas was holding back, and I did not want him to. I did not come out to fight someone who would not put their whole effort into fighting me. With a small grunt, I put almost all of my force behind one of my parries and it knocked the knife from his hand. He was not distracted by it however, but defended me just as adequately with only one knife. I was on the offensive now, and I was backing him up to the edge of the rocks. But then as I went to attack him, he ducked, and I saw the glittering knife on the ground. I jumped quickly as he tried to touch my legs. I jumped back as he stood up quickly, and he came at me again. I parried him again, but I could feel my arms tiring. My hands were numb from the vibrations that rang down the sword. Legolas came at me with a ferocious growl and he knocked my sword out of my hand. He swung his knife up to touch it to my neck, but I crouched and drew the hidden knife out of my boot. I balanced on my knee and touched the tip of my knife to his ribs.

He froze and looked down, completely surprised. I smirked up at him and we stood there for a moment, panting. I should say that I was panting; Legolas had barely broken a sweat. He moved back and I slid with knife back into my boot.

"I thought we agreed that there was to be no dirty fighting," he said, sheathing his knives.

"That wasn't dirty. You should have remembered that I keep a blade in my boot," I said with a laugh.

I picked up my sword and sheathed it. Legolas beckoned me to sit on a stone with him and I did as he asked. He held out a water skin and I took a drink gladly. We sat for a while in silence and I caught my breath. Then Legolas turned to me with a friendly smile.

"Is there a particular reason that you needed to spar?" he asked gently.

I sighed and looked back toward Edoras. "Yes, and no. I needed to practice my sparring, but I also needed to get out of the city before I started breaking things," I said with a sigh.

Legolas laughed and I nudged him playfully.

"Why were you going to start breaking things?" Legolas asked, still chuckling.

I smiled ironically and shrugged.

"Do not start keeping things from me," Legolas said warningly.

I sighed and closed my eyes. "Éomer and I kissed last night. But then he ran away. Now I don't know what to do," I said, my voice a little sad. Legolas sighed himself and shook his head.

"Do you have feelings for Éomer?" he asked simply after a moment.

I thought about it, and the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that yes, I did have romantic feelings for Éomer. I might even love him. I nodded and Legolas sighed again.

"Then there is nothing you can do. You are sure of your feelings, so now you must wait for him to become sure of his," Legolas said with a simple little sigh.

"If only he would make up his mind quickly so I do not have to agonize every minute that my mind is idle," I said with an ironic chuckle.

Legolas laughed too, but then he stood. He stood in front of me and looked at me.

"Has anyone taught you how to fire a bow from the back of a horse?" Legolas asked.

I shook my head and he looked a little surprised.

"Then you must learn. You have to know how to fight on the back of horse," Legolas said with a little laugh.

He extended his hand and helped me up. We called over the horses and Legolas spent the rest of the afternoon teaching me how to guide Narmírë without using the reins. It was a little scary at first, Legolas was a great teacher, and Narmírë had great instincts. We ended up hunting some rabbits and making a little roast over a fire instead of going back to the great hall, because we did not want to end the lesson.

We sat around our fire, laughing a little when we heard a rider approaching. We stood and saw that it was a lone rider and he was riding fast. As he approached, we saw that it was Aragorn. He looked relieved, but also a little annoyed. We greeted him as he came within earshot.

"The king is worried about you, Braedia. No one knew where you were going, and you've been gone all day. You should return to Edoras," he said a little scolding.

I rolled my eyes. "I've been with Legolas. He's been teaching me to shoot from the back of a horse. We're going to continue lessons tomorrow," I said with a laugh.

Aragorn gave us a half-chastising, half-amused smile. We still knew that it was time to go in, so we cleaned up our meal and mounted the horses. We rode back to Edoras with Aragorn, and upon entering the Golden Hall, we were greeted by many sighs of relief.

"There you are, Braedia," the king side when he spotted us.

"Yes, my lord. I've been with Legolas all day. Éowyn excused me from my duties, so Legolas taught me how to shoot from the back of a horse," I explained and Théoden was very relieved.

"Well, next time, tell someone where you are going. We missed you at supper," Théoden said, motioning to the people at the table nearby.

Éowyn sat there with Merry, Gimli, and Éomer. Éomer wasn't looking at me, but he looked tired. I smiled and then excused myself. I went back to my quarters and rinsed the dirt and sweat from the day off of my skin and changed into a simple dress. I went back out to the great hall and found that the only person there was Éomer. He was leaving, and didn't seem to notice that I had entered.

I sighed and went to find Éowyn. I found her in her quarters, some sewing in her lap.

"Why did you leave Edoras today?" she asked once I had sat down in my usual chair.

"Because, if I didn't, I would have broken things out of frustration. I needed to get some sparring practice out of the way anyway. Legolas was a great opponent," I said simply.

I had grown to be blunt with Éowyn, because she hated when I danced around a subject with fancy words.

"I see," she said tensely.

She had not looked up from her sewing, which I now recognized as a uniform. Perhaps she was mending it for someone.

"There has been talk of a great battle. The reason Gandalf left was because there was talk about a large assault on Minas Tirith. Everyone has been tense, waiting to see if the beacons would be lit," Éowyn said after a few moments.

I was starting to drift off to the area between sleep and awake, but her words brought me back to wide awake.

"An attack?" I repeated, now very concerned.

She nodded. "Do you think that the beacons will be lit?" she asked in a soft voice.

I sighed and looked into the fire. "Lord Denethor is a stubborn man, but I'm sure that he will see reason. And even if he does not, Mithrandir will find a way to light them. Minas Tirith does not have enough strength to defend itself, or at least it did not when I left," I said, my voice just as soft.

"It is tradition for the women of the court to ride with the men to the camp and see them off," Éowyn said.

She was working quickly on her project, and I really studied what she was doing. She was taking in the sides ever so slightly, but the way she was doing it would still leave the front very loose. I looked around and saw that she also had a pair of breeches laid out on a chair.

"Is it? Interesting," I said offhandedly.

I was still trying to piece together her plan. I often rode with breeches and a tunic, but only because it was more comfortable.

"That means that I will be going to camp, and I would like you to accompany me," Éowyn said.

"Of course, Éowyn. I would not be left behind even if they tied me to a chair in one of the vaults. I would find a way to see off the men," I said with a chuckle.

Éowyn laughed a little and looked up at me. "You told me once that there would be a greater battle for us to fight in. Do you still believe it?" she asked suddenly.

I knew what she was speaking of as soon as she said it. She was referring to our conversation in the caves at Helm's Deep. I thought about it, all the while looking into the fire.

"Yes, Éowyn. I do believe it. Helm's Deep was not my battle. I still feel that I am destined for something greater, though I am not sure if my battle will be literal or, rather, proverbial," I said with a sigh.

Éowyn nodded thoughtfully and we strayed into silence again. I stood then and bid Éowyn good-night. I had to be up early tomorrow so Legolas and I could continue my training, and he wore me out today. I went back to my room, and I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: So this author's note and response is going to be a quick one. I've started my summer job and it just takes it right out of me. Work is a double-edged sword. On one side, I'm making money that I need to survive, but on the other side, work just saps that creative juices. Don't worry though; I'm not going to stop publishing because I've got the rest of the story written. **

**sharNZ: Braedia is, so far, my favorite character that I've ever written, of all time (and trust me when I say that I've written a lot of them). I'm glad I'm not the only one who likes her. I also like how you call the characters "my Eowyn" or "my Legolas". It actually is quite the compliment that you do that, because I'm not trying to re-write Prof. Tolkien's characters, and I'm glad my efforts are coming through.**

**Lift the Wings: Your review reminds me of a line that I use later in the story. It's such a good line that I can't help but to share it now. No context, just the line: "You better saddle your stallion before he goes off and mounts another mare." Maybe I'll keep dropping one line hints, and see what happens. No spoilers. **

**WV: I think I've said everything that I need to say in response to your review in our messages. I look forward to your reviews from now on.**

**rosewriter17: I'm looking forward to Pelennor Fields too. It was a lot of fun to write. And yes, Legolas is just the friend. I wouldn't say that he was "friend zoned", but yes, he's just the friend.**

**Lystan: Yeah, you and my beta both got after me about my use of "quickly". And it's okay to be critical of me. I actually encourage it. Also, when I read your review when it first popped up, my face looked something like this: O.O and my thoughts were "How did she know that I was going to post tomorrow?". So I didn't post the day after you reviewed because I sort of wanted you to be wrong...**

**Willow: I'm still on the "Kill Geoffry" bandwagon. Theon isn't anywhere close to the top of hit list. And I'm going to get another chapter soon?**

**I'd also like to take a moment to send a shout out to Winged-Violoncelle. She is writing a Legomance called "Chasing the Light". And before you groan and shake your head, it's actually really unique and interesting. So, after you're done here, I would highly recommend that you take a little stroll over to her page. I would link it, but FF . net wouldn't like me very much if I did. But the fact remains that her story needs some readers. So do yourself, and me, a favor and at least give it a go.**

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><p>The next morning, Legolas and I rode out to our field, and I found that there were stacks of burlap sacks at various heights scattered around the field.<p>

"Targets?" I asked as I turned to him.

He nodded and we began our lesson right away. He first showed me the proper technique for shooting an arrow from horseback. It was a little different from shooting an arrow from the ground, because essentially your base was moving. I began to shoot arrows, moving at only a walk, and I found it a little more difficult than shooting from the ground. I did not learn to shoot at a trot, because the horse moved too much. We took a break to give the horses a rest and ate lunch.

After our lunch, Legolas helped me learn to shoot at a canter, and it took me several tries to learn how to coordinate my stance, my aim, and my breathing for the release. Legolas was very helpful and I picked up the skill relatively quickly. I was an okay shot, but for only learning for two days, I thought that I did very well.

The next day was more of the same. I was getting the aim down, and I managed to go faster and still hit my target. It felt very good to master something quickly. We did not stay out nearly as late as we did the previous two days, because Théoden had requested that we eat supper with him.

As we rode back to Edoras, I slowed down to a walk and Legolas rode next to me. I looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out how to go about talking about this. The conversation I had with Éowyn weighed heavily on my mind, and while the lessons were a great distraction, I could not help but to think about it. She sounded like she was going to do something, but I was unsure what. Legolas looked at me curiously.

"Do you think that Rohan will be summoned to Minas Tirith?" I asked suddenly.

Legolas looked off for a moment. "Yes, I do. It is inevitable," he said distantly.

"Éowyn asked me to go with her to the camp, and I cannot help but feel like she is going to ask something else of me, something of greater significance," I said, trying not to sound cryptic.

Legolas smirked. "You have the foresight of an elf. I almost mistook you for one the first time I saw you. But why do you say this?" Legolas said.

I looked at him harshly, but I decided to let the elf comment go. "She was sewing a uniform in her room, and she had breeches, and she's been acting very secretive over the last couple of days. I saw her carrying a sword to the stable, and I saw her hide it where her tack is kept. I think she means to sneak off into the battle, and I think she's going to ask me to join her," I said.

This was reinforced by a dream that I had, and I knew that Legolas was the only one who would understand my feelings. Legolas was silent for a few moments while he thought on it.

"What are you going to do if she asks you to go with her?" Legolas asked seriously.

I sighed. I was still technically banished from Gondor, so I could run the risk of being executed or imprisoned indefinitely if I entered its borders. But I could feel the pull that the White City had over me. I would always belong in Gondor, despite how at home I felt on the rolling plains of Rohan.

"I will follow her, wherever she chooses to go. She can be impulsive and reckless at times, and she needs someone to watch her back," I said softly.

"Then I wish you the best of luck," Legolas said with a smile.

"Are you not going to battle?" I asked confused.

"I will be there, but I have a feeling that I will be taking a different road," Legolas said, taking his turn being cryptic.

I sighed and nodded. I would like to ride into battle at his side, but I knew that I could not. I would have to remain with Éowyn, who would surely not join the front line like Théoden, Aragorn, Legolas, and Éomer would.

_Éomer, _I thought with a painful throb in my heart.

He and I had been effectively avoiding each other for the last three days. The meal that we were about to share would be the first time that I would be in his presence for more than a few minutes. I was not looking forward to it, because I still had not discovered what his feelings were. If he saw me walking toward him, he would find something to do. After a few attempts, I stopped trying and avoided him with as much conviction as he avoided me.

"It is going to be fine. This meal will pass. But if you do intend to ride into battle, talk to him before you do so. Battles are very uncertain, and there is a chance that one of you may not make it out alive," Legolas said wisely.

I rolled my eyes. I had not been aware of how much I displayed my emotions on my face, but after the prolonged contact with Legolas, he grew to be able to read my face and know what I was thinking. I knew he was right, of course, but it did not mean that I liked it.

"I know. That does not mean that I am not nervous about tonight. It feels all wrong, avoiding him like I have been. We used to be such good friends. I miss his company greatly," I said with a sad sigh.

Legolas nodded, but decided not to comment on it. We went back to a canter and made out way quickly back to the city. We stabled the horses and then parted ways so I could prepare for dinner. I dressed in a simple yet elegant dress, not really feeling the need to try to impress anyone tonight. I went to Éowyn's room, and I found her waiting for me. I looked around the room, a habit that I picked up now that I was suspicious of her. There was nothing new to see, but I had a feeling that she was still hiding something. She stood when I entered, and I found her to be ready.

We walked out to the dinner table to find that we were the last to arrive. I sat next to Éowyn and on Legolas's other side. Aragorn was sitting next to the king across from Éowyn, which meant that I was sitting directly across from Éomer. He nodded to me as I sat down, and I nodded back. This was the first direct contact that either of us had given the other since our return to Edoras. The first course was served and it was eaten in silence. Even the _perian_ was quiet as he ate. Losing his friend, even temporarily, seemed to severely darken his mood. As the second course was served, Théoden turned to Legolas and I.

"How have the lessons been going?" he asked conversationally.

"Good, my lord. I have advanced rather quickly," I said, looking to Legolas for confirmation.

"Yes, Théoden King. She has picked up archery on horseback very quickly. It is most impressive," Legolas said proudly.

"I bet it is. She has always been a quick study. But the reason I bring the subject up is to ask that you not leave the city for a few days. Gandalf would have reached Minas Tirith by now. His first priority was to get Denethor to light the beacons. It roughly takes a day for the beacons to be lit from start to finish, am I correct, Braedia?" Théoden asked.

I was stunned for a moment. The beacons had never been lit in my lifetime. But as I thought about it, I found that his logic was sound. The guards are always very vigilant on their watches and responded even in the dead of night.

"Yes. Mithrandir would make sure they are lit very soon after his arrival. And I suspect that even if Lord Denethor did not give the order himself, Mithrandir would find a way to light them. But as to the time it would take for the beacons to reach us, I believe your estimate would be correct," I said, very stunned that he would even ask it of me.

"Then I do not want people to stray far from the Golden Hall, just in case. That means you, too, Éomer. I need everyone to be looking for the beacon to be lit, if it is even to be lit at all," Théoden said.

Éomer looked up sharply from his plate to his uncle and, after a moment of hesitation, nodded his compliance with the king's order. We all returned to our meals and finished in silence. As soon as I could, I stood and attempted to go to my room. But Éowyn caught my skirt and bid me to sit with her and the rest for a while. I could not refuse a direct order, despite how close I had grown to her.

I sat next to her, twisting my hands nervously. She talked casually with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. But Éomer, who had also been forced to linger, did not join in the conversation. We sat there while they talked, making a big show of not looking at each other. I, however, could not help but to sneak glances at him. I kept my glances short because, every time my eyes lingered, he would look at me and caught my eye, forcing me to look away quickly.

He was wearing his armor, or a large portion of it. He did not wear the chest plate, but wore the vambraces and greaves, along with his mail shirt and skirt. He looked ready to ride into battle at any moment, and it made him look so handsome. His rugged appearance was one of the things that made me attracted to him. Boromir, while he had been a soldier and that had given him an inherit ruggedness, was still a dignified noble at heart. He had often professed not to want the Steward's seat, but his father had groomed him for the role, and it was reflected in his demeanor.

Éomer, however, had not been raised to inherit a seat of power. Théodred was the king's son, and would have taken over the throne, if only his untimely death had not occurred. Now that I thought about it, because Théodred was dead, Éomer was the next in line for the throne, if Théoden was to die. The thought caused me to look up at him with wide eyes, and even when he caught my gaze, I could not keep my eyes off of him. He was going to be king someday, and the thought was unsettling.

There had been hope for our relationship, even our eventual marriage if it played out that way, when Éomer was just the Third Marshal of the Riddermark. But now he was in line to become king. There was no way that we could ever be together. I was a high-ranking servant in the household, but I was still only a servant. I had no noble blood in me at all. Éomer was now looking at me curiously and that was when I looked away.

I would have to talk to him. Now that this realization had come over me, I had to know how he felt even more. I had to know if I should even try to fight for him, or if I should just give up while I still could. It had been an appropriate amount of time for lingering, so I stood and excused myself. All of the men rose and bid me good night. I left quickly, not even asking Èowyn if she wanted to leave as well.

I went to my room and decided that I had to keep my hands busy for a while. I decided to repair some of my old arrows and make some more. I had lost many in the course of my lessons, and broken quite a few. I needed a full quiver. So I cleared a large space on my floor and spread my cloak on it. I used to do this when I lived in the Wilds to keep the feathers from getting lost or dirty. It was a time consuming and tedious process, and it felt good to let my mind focus entirely on this task and not let it wander to anything else. I ended up whetting my sword. I could sharpen it fully on a wheel at the camp, but that could wait.

I looked out of the little window in my room and found that it was well into the night. I felt a little hungry, so I decided to go to the kitchen for a small snack before I went to bed. The hall was quiet, and I reveled in the silence. It was rare for the entire house to be quiet. I often wished for the silence and solitude that I used to have in the Wilds. I wanted to be alone again, with just my survival to think about, something that required my attention at all hours of the day and night. But I knew that I could never go back, not after everything that had happened here. I would miss Éowyn and Legolas too much.

I reached the kitchens, and I was surprised to find that someone was sitting at one of the tables. I gasped a little in surprise and the person turned around. It was Éomer.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Happy Memorial Day (if you're American). This chapter is actually a bit of a revision of the original that I ran by my beta. So this is a surprise for everyone. **

**I'm going to do something a little different for this chapter. Instead of responding to every single review (which there are a bunch of them for each chapter), I'm going to name everyone that reviewed and respond to a few things that I feel need a response. So this is the list of all of the reviewers: brandibuckeye, Lystan, redrosegirl, WV, , Inotia, and rosewriter17.**

**Inotia: I've been wondering where you were. I'm glad you're still "hooked". It makes me all warm and fuzzy to have a loyal reader review. **

**WV: Braedia's thoughts are the product of several hours of intense planning. This entire story arc was planned from start to finish before I wrote a single word of actual story. And I give shout-outs when they are deserved, and you deserve it.**

**redrosegirl: Thank you for your first review. An easy read? I like "engaging" or "engrossing" or some other "e" adjective. It usually takes me about six hours to read everything, so three hours sounds about right.**

**But now that the responses are out of the way, here is the exchange that everyone was looking forward to. Hopefully this was worth the agony.**

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><p>I froze in the doorway, staring at Éomer's back. I thought about turning and leaving, but before the thought finished forming in my head, Éomer heard my movement and turned. He started a little, but then his face broke into a little smile.<p>

"I did not expect anyone to be awake at this hour," he said softly.

I shook myself mentally and relaxed my face in an impassive expression. "Neither did I," I said neutrally.

Éomer nodded and we stared at each other in silence for a moment. I looked away and around the kitchen, trying to figure out what to do. It seemed rude to intrude on Éomer's solitude, but I couldn't deny my hunger. Éomer started, as if he remembered himself.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked, motioning to the stool opposite him at the small table.

I gave a polite smile before accepting his offer. Éomer cut me a few slices of bread and some cheese and then we ate in silence. I watched Éomer's hands, fascinated. His fingers were rough, but I knew them to be gentle. I couldn't help as my mind strayed to the night of the feast, and the way Éomer's hands felt around my waist...

I shook my head a little before my mind wandered too far.

"What keeps you up at this hour?" Éomer asked conversationally.

"I was attending to the state of my arrows and sword. Yourself?" I responded, looking the bread in my hands.

"I am always restless on the eve of battle. Why are you concerned with the state of your weapons?" Éomer asked quickly.

"A warrior should always carry a sharp sword and a full quiver," I said automatically, recalling the words that were taught to me long ago.

"You are no warrior," Éomer chuckled.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "A Shieldmaiden, then," I said, using a word that Éomer would be familiar with.

"You are no Shieldmaiden. You are a lady-in-waiting," Éomer chided.

"I am a lady-in-waiting to a Shieldmaiden. Where she goes, I go, and I would like to be prepared," I snapped, losing my patience for this game.

"So Éowyn intends to ride to Minas Tirith?" Éomer asked, jumping on my slight slip.

I sighed and looked at to my hands again.

"I do not know what your sister intends," I muttered, emotionless.

"Braedia, you must tell me. She is my sister," Éomer pleaded.

"And she is one of my dearest friends. But I cannot tell you what I do not know," I said, slightly exasperated.

"What does your heart tell you?" Éomer asked.

I sighed and looked to my bread. I had been ripping it to shreds without realizing it. I didn't answer Éomer, for fear of being dishonest. My heart told me that Éowyn would be riding to battle, but she had not told me anything specific. I did not want to tell Éomer anything that he didn't already know for fear of betraying Éowyn.

Éomer sighed and shook his head. "Because my uncle and I will be riding to battle, Éowyn will be charged with taking up the seat in the Golden Hall," he said, his voice strained a little.

"Why should she not be allowed to ride out to defend her home? She is just as valiant a warrior as any in your _éored_," I said, feeling slightly defensive for her.

"It is the will of her king. It is her duty to serve her country, as it is your duty to see to the will of your superiors. She must be brought back here, no matter what," Éomer said, his voice becoming abrasive and his spine curling into an offensive position.

My temper flashed, hearing what Éomer wasn't saying. He wanted me to follow his command over hers, just because he wanted her not to follow her heart.

"My duty is to Éowyn. Until such time that Théoden King orders me to do otherwise, I will be following her rule," I said, narrowing my eyes and speaking low and dangerous.

I stood up and tried to leave the room, but as I passed him, Éomer grabbed my upper arm and brought me back to face him. I glared, daring him to say something that would allow me to unleash my built-up venom on him.

"I need you to keep her safe. Please," Éomer said softly.

I let out a quick breath and set my shoulders. "Is that your command, my lord Éomer?" I spat out his title with as much bitterness as I could muster.

Éomer stood and towered over me, his eyes narrowed. "I have never commanded you," Éomer whispered.

"You never had to," I spat back, still angry.

I tried to pull away, but Éomer held fast. His golden gaze held mine and I found myself uncomfortable. His eyes seemed to look through me instead of at me, and it was unsettling. Then suddenly, he leaned down and captured my lips with his. I melted for a moment against their warmth, but then my anger came back and pushed hard, breaking the kiss. Éomer looked at me, stunned by my actions.

"Why did you pull away?" he asked, a little breathless.

"Why did you run away?" I shot back, yanking my arm from his loosened grasp.

Éomer's mouth fell open, but then it snapped closed. He was unable to respond. I glared at him and then stormed out of the kitchen. He made no move to follow me. I went all the way back to my room, and I had to make a conscious effort not to slam my door. It was late, and I did not want to wake anyone. I stormed around the room a few times, feeling my frustration leaking out of my eyes in the form of tears. After I had calmed down considerably, I laid down to sleep. It took a while for sleep to find me, and when it did, it was an uneasy sleep. My dreams were strange images.

_Èowyn was standing before a creature in the middle of a very chaotic battlefield. The creature was cloaked in black and wore a harsh iron mantle. I could sense something truly evil about the creature, as if his mere presence made my blood turn to ice. Èowyn ripped off her helm and stabbed the creature in the face with her sword._

I woke up after this dream and fell asleep again quickly.

_Denethor was standing on top of a funeral pyre in the tombs near the citadel of Minas Tirith. He looked half mad, and he held an urn. He brought the urn over his head and poured the contents over his face. I followed the oil as it dripped off of his face and down his furs and robes. At his feet lay Faramir. He was moaning softly and moved as some of the oil hit his face. But then Denethor bid one of the guards to set fire to the funeral pyre._

I woke up with a start before the fire touched the oiled wood. I felt a cold sweat on my body, but I knew that it was not time for me to wake. I closed my eyes, but I did not allow sleep to overcome me immediately. When I did begin to dream, it was only because I could not fight it any longer.

_I was standing beside a woman with dark brown hair, looking over her shoulder at Éomer. He was looking at me, but I could see that his gaze was sad. I looked around and I saw that I was standing beside a bride at a wedding. I felt my heart breaking in my chest as I turned back to Éomer and his bride and saw that they were sharing the first kiss of a married couple._

I awoke from my dream screaming. I was panting and I clutched my chest. I could not help the panic in my chest. All of the dreams had been equally terrifying, but it was the last that truly made me start to panic. I began to sob from my fear, and then I heard my door slam open. Legolas stood in my door, his bow drawn. Aragorn was behind me with his sword drawn, and Gimli was coming up to the door. Legolas lowered his bow when he saw that there was no one in the room, and all three men looked to me. Aragorn and Gimli visibly relaxed when they saw that I was physically fine, but Legolas still looked very concerned.

"Are you alright, Braedia? We heard you scream," Aragorn said, sheathing his sword.

I was still panting, and I tried to calm down.

"I had…terrifying dreams. They felt so real," I said, the words coming out between sobs.

"You two can deal with the land of dreams. I'm going to get some food," Gimli said with a wave of his hand.

He left the room, and Legolas came to sit on the bed beside me. Aragorn dragged one of my chairs from in front of the fire to sit at my bedside. I explained my dreams to them, all of them starting from my first one about Boromir, and ending with my dream of Éomer's wedding. Aragorn listened intently, and Legolas held my hand tightly.

"Are you sure that you do not have Dúndedain blood?" Aragorn asked after sitting for a moment when I had finished.

I nodded. I had stopped crying, but I still felt very shaky.

"I am going to think about these dreams. Perhaps they are nothing, but I would not rule them out as visions of the future," Aragorn said, standing up.

He nodded to Legolas and me and walked swiftly from the room. I looked at Legolas and he was deep in thought.

"What do you think of these dreams?" I asked softly.

Legolas sighed. "You continue to profess that you do not have Númenórean blood, but you continue to have these dreams. Everything that you have dreamed about has come true. I would not rule out the possibility." Legolas said, his voice soft and insistent.

I shook my head. I could not be having visions of the future. It was not possible. I was no elf, and these dreams were just dreams.

"I wish to prepare for the day," I said with a soft smile.

Legolas looked at me, wary for a moment, but then he smiled back. He stood and bid me good day. He left the room and I swung my legs out of my bed. I changed into my breeches and tunic with jerkin, determined not to have to waste time with clothing changes if the time came to ride. I packed my satchel and made sure that everything that I would need was ready to go at a moment's notice. I walked out of my room, but I nearly collided with Éowyn and Éomer, who were standing right outside. Éomer had his hand raised in a fist, as if he were ready to knock.

"Good morning," I said, very surprised to see either of them.

I was especially surprised to see Éomer, considering the previous night's encounter. Èowyen was dressed in a relatively plain brown dress, and Éomer wore his full armor. They looked me over as well, and took a step back.

"Good. The king has bid everyone to be ready to go at a moment's notice. He does not want anyone to delay when the time comes to depart," Éowyn said.

I nodded and looked at Éomer. He was not looking at me, and we fell into awkward silence.

"I need to prepare my men," Éomer said quickly. He tried to leave but Éowyn caught him by the arm.

"Oh no, I brought you to talk with her. You are not getting off that easily," Éowyn said, pushing her brother back toward me.

I looked at him with a stern look. He looked a little uneasy under my gaze, and I felt that it was rightly so.

"Do you have an answer to my question?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest stubbornly.

Éomer flushed, and I was almost satisfied to see him so uncomfortable. He opened his mouth and closed it several times, as if trying to answer but no words came out.

"If you do not have an answer, then there is no point in trying to carry out this conversation," I said, turning to walk back into my room.

But Éowyn grabbed my arm and made me turn around.

"You cannot get out of this either. Tell him what you told me the other day," Éowyn pushed.

Éomer looked at me curiously. I opened my mouth, but snapped it closed. I had wanted to lay into him with my anger and frustration, but I could not do it. It felt wrong just to unleash my anger on him in front of Éowyn. I sighed, and opened my mouth again. But then we heard shouting from the great hall. We all rushed into the room and saw that Aragorn was running in.

"The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!" he said, skidding to a stop before the king.

There was a tense moment; Théoden talked of aiding Gondor, but there was still a chance that he would not do anything.

"And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirrim," Théoden said.

Éowyn and I looked back to Éomer and he nodded to us and left. Éowyn looked at me and we nodded. I went back to my room and grabbed my bag, weapons, and cloak. I quickly finished preparing myself and then went to Éowyn's room. She was packing her saddle bags, and I could see that they were bulging slightly in some places. I had hidden my own armor in the stable, where my saddlebags were already packed.

Éowyn and I went to the stables to find them in chaos. The scene was fairly reminiscent of the escape to Helm's Deep, but this felt more triumphant. We were not making a hasty retreat, but charging forward to meet the armies that threatened our lands. I quickly saddled Narmírë, making sure that all of the stolen armor was properly hidden. Éowyn walked past me with her fully saddled horse, and I could see part of the armor, including her sword. I grabbed a blanket and threw it at her. She caught it unexpectedly, and looked at me curiously.

"It might help you," I said, nodding at the things I saw.

She looked to where I was looking, and nodded back to me. She quickly threw the blanket over the things she wished to hide. She walked her horse out of the stable and I turned to Narmírë.

"I'm not sure what is going to happen to us, girl. But will you follow me, wherever I go?" I asked softly, leaning my forehead against her face.

She nickered softly and I smiled.

"I knew you would. You are fearless," I said with a laugh.

"Just like her rider," I heard a voice say from behind me.

I turned and saw that Legolas was standing there. I smiled and I walked with him out of the stable. We found Gimli and then mounted up.

"Horse men! I wish I could muster an army of Dwarves. Fully armed and filthy," Gimli said, his tone a little harsh.

He was regarding the whole chaotic scene with a small bit of disgust and disinterest.

"Your kinsmen may have no need to ride to war. I fear war already marches on their own lands," Legolas said softly, his voice and gaze distant.

I did not know what he was speaking of, but I did not like the sound of it. But I was distracted from my thoughts as I heard Éomer shouting.

"Now is the hour, Riders of Rohan. Oaths you have taken. Now fulfill them all, to Lord and Land!" He shouted passionately.

I could not help but to feel some level of his passion at his words. He shouted at his horse, and the whole company galloped off. I rode next to Legolas, only just behind Éowyn and Aragorn, and the company rode off to face our fate.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Okay, so a lot of reviews, very little time. Here's the list of reviewers: CrocScale, MinNinniach, rosewriter17, Certh (my lovely beta), Winged-Violoncelle, WillowDamon17, brandibuckeye, LightsCDark, Lystan, , and Lady of Sign. Wow...let me just say that was the most amount of reviewers I've ever had on a chapter that I didn't as a direct question. You guys continue to blow me away. Now some little comments from me:**

**Certh: I hope you like revisions because this chapter (and the next) are heavily revised from the versions you saw. I am much happier with them now, especially the next chapter.**

**WV: Your conspiracy theory could not be further from the truth...although I was highly tempted to go back and figure out how to make it work because it amused me that much. I'm telling you now that I'm pretty sure you're just over thinking this whole thing. Oh, and there is more jealous Eomer in here for you :)**

**Willow: If you can get a chapter to me, I'll probably be able to get it back to you within the week. Wednesdays are my good days.**

**LightsCDark: Calm yourself. It's just a dream. And the future is very unpredictable; it can change in a heartbeat. Also, if you know the book-verse, you'll know who the other woman is.**

** : I'm glad you like that chapter so much. My favorite (to write and read) is Chapter 30, and that's when everything changes...or not. You'll just have to wait and decide for yourself :P**

**Thank you guys again for your continued readership. I love posting a chapter before I go to work and then, throughout the day on my breaks, I get these awesome emails saying that so many people have reviewed and added this story to their favorites/alert list. It means so much to me that you guys love this as much as I do. You have no idea how hard it is for me not to post several chapters a day. I know you guys would love it, but I think my beta would kill me if I did that. But no more delay! On with the story!**

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><p>The ride to Dunharrow was a relatively short one. We rode at near a full gallop the whole way, so it made conversation opportunities nonexistent. We rode through the night and arrived at the encampment in the morning. It was a fine day, bright and sunny. I rode next to Legolas and Gimli. Éomer rode on Legolas's other side and Éowyn rode on her brother's other side. Aragorn and Théoden led the column at a trot through the tents of the men. A soldier was shouting for the others to make way, and men greeted their king along the path.<p>

"Grimbold, how many?" Théoden asked as we rode.

"I bring 500 men from the Westfold, my lord," the man shouted.

"We have 300 men from Fenmarch, Théoden King," another shouted.

"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" Théoden asked, looking around.

"None have come, my lord," a soldier replied.

I looked around at all of the busy soldiers. The encampment was enormous, and I looked ahead to where we were headed. In the face of the mountain, a winding path was carved leading up to a flat bit of stone. There were a few tents pitched up their as we arrived, but I could tell that this was our destination. Most of the riders from Edoras peeled away from the column to make camp on the ground.

But the royal guard, the royal family, their guests, and myself moved up the side of the mountain. We had to move in a single file line, so the going was sort of slow. Narmírë was sure footed, but I sensed some sort of unease in her. As we reached the top of the path, I went with Éowyn to find where we would be staying. I felt a chilling breeze sweep through the camp, and Narmírë started to move anxiously around.

"Steady, Narmírë," I said softly, trying to calm her down.

She whinnied anxiously, and she was moving around in a way that I had never seen before. Her ears were flat against her head and she was whipping her head around.

"_Freod, Narmírë, _[Peace, Narmírë]" I said softly in Rohirric.

She didn't hear me, and she started to neigh in a strained voice. I felt my heart pounding a little, and I knew that some people were staring. I held tightly onto the reigns, and I reached down to pet her neck, something I knew she liked. But then she started to rear up and it was all I could do to hold on.

"Easy, easy. Calm down," I said loudly.

But then someone grabbed her bridle, and I jumped down before I was thrown off. I went to thank the person, and it was Éomer. I sighed, and I nodded at him.

"You are lucky she didn't throw you," Éomer said, taking her reigns and tying them to a post.

"She knew I was there. But she never has been spooked before. Not even when there were Wargs in the area," I said, looking at my horse again. She was a little calmer, but she was still looking around anxiously.

"It's the mountain. All of the horses are restless. They do not like to dwell in its shadow," Éomer said darkly.

I looked up at him, and he was looking toward the wall of rock behind us. I followed his gaze, and my eyes landed on Aragorn looking strangely at a crack in the mountain. Gimli came up to him, and Aragorn started visibly, but then they walked off.

"Thank you. But I can handle it from here," I said, moving quickly to Narmírë as Éomer tried to unsaddle her.

"She is still uneasy. I would feel better if you allowed me to unsaddle her," Éomer said, turning to me.

I sighed angrily. "I can handle my own horse," I said roughly.

Éomer laughed, but continued to take off the saddle bags. I tried to grab them from him, and he pulled them out of my reach, as if we were children and this was a game. But all traces of humor left him as he heard the rattle of the armor in them. I tried to snatch the bags away again, a little more desperately this time, but he looked inside. He looked at me with a shocked expression. I glared at him; he had no right to look into my bags without my permission. Well, he had the right, because he was of higher rank than me, but he should not have evoked that right.

"You do intend to ride to battle," Éomer said hoarsely.

"I wish to defend the city where I was born. Is that a crime? And you know that Théoden King needs every sword and spear his can get. I am a good rider, and a better fighter," I said softly.

I felt a little defensive, but Éomer was shaking his head. He looked at Narmírë, and then to my bags, and then back to me. He sighed and shook his head.

"I know, and I know that you will do what you wish, regardless of what I say," Éomer said.

I could not help but feel guilty for my actions. He looked so disappointed.

"I am a good fighter. I never got to chance to teach you a lesson in how good I am," I said, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm.

He looked up at me, and I was smirking. He cracked a half of a smile and shook his head again.

"I sparred with Legolas once I and I beat him," I said, half trying to reassure him, half trying to make him laugh.

"Indeed," Éomer said, laughing a little.

Éomer sighed again, and handed me my saddlebags. He went back to unsaddling Narmírë.

"You should not ride her if you are to go to battle. She is a surefooted horse, but I think she would get spooked in battle," Éomer said softly, lowering his voice so not to be overheard.

"What you mean to say is that she is very recognizable," I teased gently as I took the bridle off of her and replaced it with a halter.

Éomer smirked at me, but did not dispute it.

"I would not want to ride with any other mount into this battle. She will bear me well," I said, petting her velvet nose.

She had calmed down a little and took the attention well. I scratched behind her jawbone, one of her favorite places to be scratched, and she stretched her neck out gratefully.

"You two do have a bond. One that I could not imagine all those years ago when I first showed her to you," Éomer said a little wistfully.

I looked up at him curiously, and I saw that he had a far-off look in his eyes. I started to wonder if I should tell him of my dream, but I decided against it. He did not need that burden. A soldier from behind him called Éomer's name, and he nodded to me again before walking off. I sighed and went back to petting Narmírë.

"If you promise not to do that again, I'll give you a whole bushel of apples when the battle is over," I said to her softly.

She perked up at the mention of her favorite snack and I could not help but to laugh. She was such a silly horse, and I could swear that she understood everything I was saying and not just the words I used often. I heard my name begin called, and I looked to see the _perian _coming toward me with a little burlap sack.

"Good day, Braedia," he said happily as he came up to me.

"Good day, Meriadoc. What has you in such a fine mood?" I said with a little laugh.

"I've been made an esquire of Rohan. And I have these," Merry said, opening his sack.

It contained five or six apples. Narmírë must have smelled them, because she stretched her nose and tried to get into the bag. Merry jumped and pulled the bag away. I laughed.

"She loves apples. She does not know how to be polite, but may she have one?" I asked still chuckling.

Merry sighed and gave me one. I pulled my knife out of my boot and cut pieces off and gave them to Merry.

"Hold your hand out flat and she won't bite you," I said.

Merry held one of the chunks out to her, and Narmírë ate it happily.

"But esquire of Rohan. That is very impressive. When did this happen?" I asked, feeding my horse more apple.

"Only as we were leaving Edoras. I want to ride to battle, because all of my friends have gone to war," Merry said, his mood darkening a little.

"You miss the other _perian. _You miss Pippin," I said softly and sympathetically.

"Yes, very much. And why do you call us that? That 'p' word," Merry asked suddenly.

"_Perian_ is the Elvish word for Halfling. I was raised on stories of a land where _periannath, _or Halflings, live in their little holes in the ground in a country that is rich and green. I thought they were just stories, but I now know that they are true because you have told me of the Shire," I said with a smile.

Merry nodded thoughtfully. "I did not know the Big People, for that is what we call you in the Shire, had stories about us," Merry said, slightly happy.

I laughed and I turned back to camp. The day was waning and I saw that all of the tents were almost erect.

"We should find Lady Éowyn. Perhaps she can find you some armor to wear. I see you already have a sword," I said, nodding to his sword.

It was essentially a long dagger, but it fit him perfectly. He put his hand on it and smiled proudly. I gave Narmírë the rest of her apple and threw the core where she could not get to it. I picked up my saddlebags and turned to Merry with a smile. He had started eating one of the apples himself.

I walked with Merry and he led me to a large tent that Éowyn was coming out of. I saw that a few of Éomer's close friends, and men in his company, had made a fire and were starting to cook something over it.

"There you are, Braedia. I was wondering where you had gotten to," Éowyn said with a relieved sigh.

"I was only taking care of my horse. She was a little spooked but she is fine now. Let me set these inside, then I will join you for more conversation. Merry has something to ask of you," I said, nodding to him.

I went into the tent and set my saddle bags and my satchel down next to my cot. I went outside and saw that Éowyn and Merry had disappeared. I looked around and saw that Éomer had now joined his men over the pot over the fire.

"What are you making?" I asked softly.

"We are making a stew, my lady. Ceorl shot a few rabbits on the ride here," one of the men said, jerking his head at one of his fellows.

As I looked at him, I felt something stir in me, as if I had seen his face before. The man he pointed out, Ceorl, also seemed familiar. Èomer seemed to notice my look and chuckled a little, drawing me attention to him.

"These are the men that first found you all those years ago," Èomer explained shortly.

As the realization came over me, my face spread into a smile. The third man laughed.

"She's practically unrecognizable with that pretty smile on her face," he said.

I blushed a little and my smile turned sly. "I highly doubt that you recognize me at all, my lord. Save for the breeches, I have changed much since you found me," I replied, not missing a beat.

The men chuckled at my retort, except for Èomer who was glaring at the last man.

"Gárbald, perhaps you should see if there are any vegetables you could commandeer from the mess tent," Èomer suggested firmly.

Gárbald, the last man, looked at his commander with a little smirk but nodded. He asked his fellow, Holdred, to accompany him. I was still standing, and Ceorl seemed to remember his manners. He stood and offered me his seat beside Èomer. I took it, though it was more out of proper manners than out of need. We three sat another moment in silence before Ceorl left to see what was taking the other two so long. I watched the scout leave with a pleased smile on my face. I looked to Èomer, only to see a scowl etched across his countenance.

"Do not be so upset, my lord. They have not seen me since I looked like an Orc," I said, laughing slightly at my own joke.

Èomer jumped at little at the address, and looked to me, a peculiar expression taking the place of his scowl.

"You never looked like an Orc," Èomer mumbled, so low that I almost didn't hear him.

Gárbald, Holdred, and Ceorl returned then. They set about the task of attempting to peel the potatoes and carrots they had acquired. But, for all of their field cooking skills, they were not doing very well. I grew frustrated quickly, and took the vegetables from them before they were ruined. I pulled my small knife from my boot and set about salvaging as much as I could.

"That is a very dangerous place to carry a blade, my lady," Gárbald said, his voice taking on a tone that I usually associated with the telling of superstitions.

I threw a smirk his way. "Please, call me Braedia. And it is only dangerous if the blade is not sheathed properly," I said with a slightly arrogant grin.

The men looked at me warily, but did not question me. They fell into conversation of past battles, and I listened with some amusement. I had a feeling that the stories and the deeds in them were exaggerated for dramatic effect, but I made no move to correct them. Throughout the telling of tales, Gárbald kept glancing at me, as if judging how I reacted to the words. Gárbald was handsome enough by most standards. He had sandy hair that hung down to his shoulders and a thick beard of the same color. His attentions weren't exactly unwelcome, but I did nothing to encourage or discourage him.

As the sun began to set, I looked around and saw that Legolas was watching my little group from a distance. His head was cocked to one side and his eyes were closed, as if he were listening intently. I sighed and held in the urge to roll my eyes. He would never change. I stood and all of the men stood as well.

"My lords, while your stories have kept me entertained, I wish to stretch my restless legs," I said, excusing myself from their company.

They looked a little disappointed at my departure, and Gárbald looked ready to offer me an escort, but I left quickly before any thoughts were acted upon. I made my way over to where Legolas was standing, but I did not take a direct route. He seemed lost in thought, so it was relatively easy for me to surprise him. He did not jump when I touched his arm, but his eyes snapped open and he looked to me with a sharp intake of breath.

"If you wish to eavesdrop, you should not position yourself in the line of sight of those you are eavesdropping on," I said, teasing him.

Legolas smirked, but did not argue. "Shall we stretch your restless legs?" he asked, offering me his arm.

I looked around for a moment, and my eyes came to rest on Èomer. He was watching the interaction between us, and I could almost feel the glare he was giving us. I nodded in the opposite direction of Èomer's little fire, but declined Legolas's offer for an escort.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: So I can't keep it inside any longer! I love this chapter and I can't wait to get to the battle. So onto the review responses.**

**CrocScale: GAH! I can't believe I did that! Thank you for catching my mistake. I'll go back and fix it soon.**

**WV: I think there is more jealous Eomer here too. **

**Vbelanger: Hopefully this wasn't too long of a wait.**

**brandi: I'm actually quite proud of Braedia's role in the battle. I can't wait for you to see it :)**

**Willow: I still love the running joke. It never gets old.**

**But there is a lot to get through in this chapter, so I won't delay any longer.**

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><p>Legolas and I walked through the camp side by side, not really seeking any destination. After a while, he turned to me with a little smile.<p>

"You have never denied my offer to escort you before," he commented casually.

"We had an observer, and it seemed wrong to allow you to escort me when I have denied that right to others," I said, purposely keeping my language vague.

Regardless, Legolas understood, and gave me a knowing smile. We reached the outskirts of the camp and found a little meadow. Some horses were grazing at one end in a make-shift paddock, but there was still some open space. Legolas led me to a place near the cliff's edge and invited me to join him on the ground. We sat down cross-legged, side by side and looked out over the expanse of the camp below. We were silent, but it was comfortable. A breeze blew by, and it tossed my hair around into my face. I brushed it away, but the fight was a losing one as more breezes played with my curls. I huffed, giving up on controlling my hair, and Legolas laughed.

"Would you like some help?" he asked, still laughing.

I looked at him skeptically, daring him to try taming my wild mane. He moved behind me and ran his agile fingers through my curls. The feeling was soothing and I tilted my head back to allow him better access. His fingers worked like magic, pulling my hair tight into little braids, but not painfully so. I had to wonder if he had done this before. Of course, he had a wife, but something in me doubted that he sat around, braiding her hair.

"Legolas, do you have sisters?" I asked curiously before I could help myself.

Legolas chuckled a little. "Yes, one older sister. I also have two older brothers," he said casually.

I felt a little surprise. It was no small wonder than that Legolas acted the way he did. If he was the youngest in his family, then he was more than likely doted upon.

"Do not think that I was spoiled. It is true that all of my siblings had reached their majority before I was born, but when your eldest brother was raised to be king, and your other siblings so well loved, they all cast very large shadows," Legolas went on, as if he were reading my thoughts.

I nodded slightly and was silent. He had given me a lot to think about. But, before I could think much about how Legolas's childhood had been, the elf spoke again, driving me to distraction.

"I see that you are speaking with Èomer again," he said lightly as he worked.

I grunted, but didn't give any further details.

"Have you worked out the problems between you?" Legolas asked in the same light and casual tone.

"No. That man has a skull as thick as the Deeping Wall," I mumbled, a little of my bitterness seeping through.

Legolas chuckled. "Give him time. I do not believe that he has ever experienced this sort of love for a woman before," he said, and I could feel the knowing smile on his face.

"I just do not understand why it takes so much effort for him to decide how he feels about me. He has no problems giving me physical affection, but when I ask him to explain his actions, he cannot speak," I said with a sigh of frustration.

Legolas hummed a little. "Do you wish to know what I believe?" he asked.

"Any insight into that man's head is most welcome," I grumbled, pouting a little.

Legolas finished his work and paused for a moment. I turned to look at him with a curious gaze. Legolas was looking out into the distance, and seemed to be lost in thought. I tapped his leg and he looked back to me.

"I believe that Èomer is afraid," Legolas said at last.

I turned my body fully and mirrored Legolas's sitting position. We sat so our knees brushed. I began to pull little blades of grass from the ground, just to have something to do with my hands.

"Èomer is not afraid of anything," I said lowly.

Legolas took my hands and I looked up into his eyes. They were shining in the dying light, and were the color of a mountain stream.

"I believe that Èomer is afraid of what loving you will mean. He fears that his emotions will make him seem weak to his men, that they will see that there is someone whose life he values more than his own," Legolas said, not letting go of my hands.

"That fear does not make a man weak," I said, my own argument sounding inadequate to my ears.

Legolas smiled. "Of course it would not seem so to you. You have known true fear and you have overcome it. But try to imagine what Èomer's mind is telling him. He has had to be strong his whole life, and loving you means being vulnerable to another. If something were to happen to you, Èomer would never be the same, and that thought more than likely terrifies him," he went on.

I sighed and looked away. Legolas was right, once again, but I was loath to admit it.

"He will come to realize that his fears are unjustified before the end, Braedia. You just need to be patient with him," Legolas urged, putting a hand to the side of my face and forcing me to look at him again.

I sighed and leaned my head into his touch. For being an archer, I had to admit that Legolas had very soft hands.

"I only hope that he will do so before the battle. I would hate to die without hearing his declaration," I said with a little smirk.

Legolas smirked back and pulled me to my feet as he stood. He looked me over, and seemed to be satisfied. I touched my hair, feeling the intricate braids. I had similar braids to his on the sides of my head, but my hair was pulled back into one long braid that had several smaller braids wrapped around it to keep it from unraveling.

"They are warrior braids of my people," Legolas explained simply.

I smiled a little, and put a hand to my heart. Legolas repeated the gesture, but then he leaned in to my ear.

"We have an observer," he whispered.

Legolas gave a tiny nod as he pulled away and looked to find Èomer standing on the edge of the tents, watching us. He was standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest, and seemed to be glaring again. I wondered vaguely how long he had been standing there, but didn't seek to ask Legolas. Èomer noticed that we had discovered him and walked away. I turned back to Legolas with a smirk, and the elf chuckled slightly.

We went back to the camp, Legolas walking me back to my tent. The three scouts still sat before their fire, but were now eating their stew. They barely noticed as we approached. Legolas gave me a short bow before departing.

I went into my tent to find an amusing sight. Èowyn was kneeling on the ground, and there were bits of armor scattered everywhere. Merry was standing before her, half dressed in armor. I smirked as I watched Èowyn adjust some vambraces on his arms. She moved on to fitting his greaves. I cleared my throat, and they both looked to me. Merry smiled, as did Èowyn.

"There you are," Merry said with a proud edge to his voice

"You look more and more like an esquire every time I see you, Master _perian_," I said with a smile.

He stood up a little straighter with pride and I laughed. Éowyn finished her fitting, and then she stood back and admired her handy work. She found his helmet and helped him put it on.

"There. A true esquire of Rohan," she said grandly.

I had to admit it; he did look like a little knight.

"I'm ready," Merry said, drawing his sword from his hip.

He was very close to Éowyn and he nearly sliced her stomach. She jumped back and we both laughed.

"Sorry. It's not all that dangerous. It's not even sharp," he said disappointedly.

He looked at his blade and I saw his face fall.

"Well, that's no good. You won't kill many Orcs with a blunt blade," Éowyn said, grabbing onto his sword.

"I'll take you. I need to sharpen mine as well," I said with a smile.

Éowyn, Merry, and I exited the tent and Merry started waving his sword around.

"To the smithy, go," Éowyn said to Merry in good humor.

I laughed as I followed the eager _perian_ to the blacksmith. He took our blades and we watched as he sharpened them expertly against his wheel. As I glanced around, I saw a horse riding through the camp toward the king's tent. The rider was cloaked in black, but he rode with some of the best posture I had ever seen. He stopped and dismounted, his movements as fluid as a stream. I had only seen such grace in Legolas. I could only conclude that this stranger was an elf. There was no man that could ride and move like that.

After our swords were sharpened, Merry ran back to Éowyn, and I made my way to Legolas's tent. But I only found that Gimli was sitting outside.

"Where is Legolas?" I asked quickly.

"He ran off after he saw that rider arrive," Gimli said.

I nodded my thanks to the dwarf and looked back to the king's tent. Legolas was probably eavesdropping again, so I looked to the areas surrounding the tent. Sure enough, I spotted him near his horse, which he had conveniently tied near the tent. I could not see his face clearly in the dark, but I could tell that he was preparing to leave.

"I think that you should begin to prepare to take your leave, master dwarf," I said faintly to Gimli.

He looked at me strangely, but nodded all the same.

I left quickly and made for Legolas. On the way, I crossed paths with Aragorn. He nearly collided with me in his haste, but we stopped and looked at each other. Something had changed in his stance and in his eyes. He stood taller, and his eyes seemed wiser all of a sudden. I looked to what he was carrying, and I recognized it immediately. I had seen many murals in the White Tower depicting Isildur's defeat of Sauron, and all of them contained an image of the sword that Aragorn now carried. I looked to Aragorn's eyes again.

"_Bado, aran Gondor. No Eru ad len__. _[Go, King of Gondor. May Eru be with you]_"_ I said softly with a swift curtsy.

He smiled a little, and put a hand to my shoulder. He looked at me for another moment and then moved off quickly.

I looked back and saw that Legolas was talking with the rider. I walked over hesitantly and, as I approached, I could hear them conversing in very rapid Elvish. They heard my approached, and the rider turned. I looked under his hood, and I could see the age in his fair face. Something about him seemed familiar, but I knew that I had never met this man before in my life. He turned back to Legolas and the two quickly parted ways. The rider mounted and rode away without another word.

I turned to Legolas and I saw that he was packed and ready to leave.

"Remember how I spoke once of taking a different path to the battle?" he asked softly.

I nodded, and I tried to hide my disappointment. Legolas put a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at him.

"We will meet again. I am glad to have known you, Braedia," he said with a smile.

I felt a tear in my eye that I could not help but let slide down my face.

"Do not lose hope. Sauron only truly wins when despair claims our hearts," Legolas went on.

I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. Legolas smirked at the action.

"Be careful, _mellon_. I wish to show you my home, and that will be very difficult to do if you are dead," I said teasingly.

Legolas chuckled, but then looked over my head. I turned and saw that Legolas was looking at Aragorn and Éowyn. Although I could not hear the exchange, I knew that it was not a fond farewell.

"This day was long approaching. She will need you now, Braedia. Do not let her fall into the depths of despair," Legolas said, turning back to me.

I nodded and we looked at each other for a long moment. He took my face in his hands and rubbed my cheeks with his thumbs.

"_No Elbereth le beria, no elenath dîn erin râd lîn _[May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine upon the path of your life]," he said, kissing my right cheek, my left cheek, and then my forehead.

I took his face in my hands and smiled at him. I repeated the gesture, but held onto his face for another moment.

"_Galu, melloneg. Na lû ir a-goveninc_, [Farewell, my friend. Until we next meet]_" _I said with a sad smile.

"_Na lû ir a-goveninc_ [Until we next meet]_," _Legolas repeated.

He took my hands from his face and kissed my knuckles. Then he let them go, and took up the reins of his horse.

I watched as he walked his horse back to the camp. After he went into the crowd, I looked back to Éowyn. She was standing frozen and Aragorn had left. I moved to her quickly and I found that she had tears rolling down her cheeks. I pulled her into an embrace and she turned to hide her face in my hair.

"He does not love me," Éowyn said miserably.

I sighed; my heart constricted for her loss. She felt so deeply for Aragorn, but as Legolas had said, this was bound to happen. Aragorn's heart belonged to the maiden that had given him the jewel he wore around his neck. Éowyn knew this, but loved him despite it.

I walked her over to her tent, and laid her down. I sat on the side of her cot and stroked her hair until she slept. I sighed and looked off into the space before me, not really see. Night was well along, but I knew that I would not sleep tonight. I felt the tent and I looked around. Many of the men were moving off to their tents to rest and quiet was falling over the camp.

I walked to the cliff's edge and sat with my feet dangling over the edge. I looked up to the stars and moon. They shone brightly in the sky, and watched over the men. I looked down at the many rows of tents and I saw that the fires were going out one by one as their tenders retired.

"You should not sit so close to the edge," I heard a voice say from behind me.

I turned and saw that Gárbald was walking toward me. I smiled ruefully but turned back to look out over the camp.

"The fall is not so great. And I do not fear the height," I said with a sigh.

"What do you fear then?" Gárbald asked.

He sat down next to me with a groan. I sighed and looked at my lap.

"To live my life without someone I love to share it with. Love is the greatest thing one can know, and I only wish to have it before the end," I said softly.

I could feel his eyes on me, but I did not look to meet them. But then he put a hand to my chin and pulled my face so my eyes met his gaze.

"You will know love," he said softly.

His blue eyes, the color of a deep pool, shone bright in the low light. Then suddenly, I saw his face moving toward mine as if to kiss me. I put my hand to his lips and gently pushed him away.

"While I am flattered by your feelings, I cannot return them," I said, standing up.

He also stood, but it took him a little longer because he was dressed in his armor. By that time, I had started to walk away. But he quickly caught my elbow and made me turn to face him again.

"Do not give your heart to one that cannot return your love. It is folly," Gárbald said desperately.

I sighed and looked away from his face. "You do not know me, and you only admire me for my beauty," I said, my voice a little flat.

"Admiration can turn to love, if given the opportunity," Gárbald said, clearly grasping at straws.

"My heart belongs to another. I am sorry, but it is unfair to you to have false hope at such a time as this," I said, pulling my arm away.

I tried to walk away again, but Gárbald took my hand firmly in his. I turned and made to strike him, but his face was so sad that I stopped. I stared for a moment, waiting for him to respond.

"You've always been beautiful, Braedia. I thought of you often over these years. But I know that your mind has been otherwise occupied," Gárbald said, his voice as sad as his face.

I stayed silent, knowing that more was coming. Gárbald sighed and looked away. After a few more moments of silence, he turned back to me with firm eyes.

"If he lives through his, I hope that he will make you as happy as you hope for. I only wish that you could have seen that there are others that could make you just as happy," Gárbald said at last.

I looked back at the man's face. He was handsome, but he lacked the features that I so admired in Éomer, and even in Boromir. He was a man with a boy's face, and a boy's dreams. I pulled my hand gently away from his grasp and gave him a curt nod. I walked away and he did not stop me.

I went back to my tent, my mind racing. I wanted to sleep well tonight, because we would be riding out in the morning. I also needed to check on Èowyn and make sure that she was not suffering too greatly from her broken heart. I watched the ground almost all the way to my tent, just trying to order my thoughts. When I was about twenty paces from the entrance, I looked up and saw that Éomer was standing at the entrance facing me. I froze for a moment before sighing. This had to be done eventually, and there was no time like the present. I walked a little slower, but looked at him with determined eyes.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: This is probably one of my favorite chapters in this entire series. I hope you guys like it as much as I do. But first, some review responses.**

**Certh: I'm going to go back sometime soon and fix those few things, including the blessing. I didn't get those last few emails until after I had posted. But, concerned "majority" and "maturity", I did a little research, and the elves call their coming of age "majority". I'm not sure why, because "maturity" makes more sense, but I'm not going to argue with canon.**

**Yayyou: Yes, you spelled that very wrong. I'm not going to try, because there are accents and I don't want to go through the effort.**

**WV: I'm so glad I decided to include the bit about Legolas's family. Everyone seemed to really enjoy it. Plus, I'm starting work on my Legolas story, and I have to get my cast of characters together. So far, there are Legolas and his wife, the two brothers, the sister, Thranduil, and then a motley crew of five of Legolas's (what I'm calling) "frat brothers". I think I might play around with parallel narrative for the next story, but I'm still working on the plot. Structure comes later. **

**brandi: (she has the shifty eyes) I hope I'm not giving away too much, as far as Braedia's heritage goes. I sort of like it being a surprise.  
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**CrocScale: DON'T DIE! I don't want to kill anyone with this story. Plus, you are a really good, consistent reviewer. I like you too much to kill you.  
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**Lystan: You're going to have to wait one more chapter. The battle starts next chapter (cue dramatic music).  
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**rosewriter: I wanted Garbald to be more important, but he served his purpose (showing that it's not just Eomer falling all over himself around Braedia).**

**Willow: :) Just enjoy yourself with this chapter.**

**Oh boy. This chapter means that we are two-thirds of the way through the story. Only 15 more chapters left :). I'm considering taking a week or so between this and the next portion of the series (whose title I will be announcing very soon, because I am sick of just referring to it as 'the next portion of the series'). But if you guys convince me to do otherwise, I might just continue on this same pattern of publishing a new chapter ever two days or so. I accept Almond Joys and chocolate cake as adequate bribes :)**

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><p>Éomer stood a little straighter as I approached.<p>

"Were you waiting for me?" I asked softly.

I did not want to wake Éowyn. He nodded and offered me his arm. I sighed, but I still looped my arm around his proffered one. He seemed a little overjoyed as I did so, but he did not show it in his face, only in his eyes. We walked away from the camp in silence, our pace slow. We left the cluster of tents and found somewhere private. Then he turned to me and I looked up at him.

"I saw you with Legolas," he said softly.

"It is an Elvish tradition. You say it to your comrades before battle as a blessing," I said, rolling my eyes.

Éomer nodded. He most likely expected me to argue with him, but I knew without asking what he was upset about.

"Would it be folly of me to ask you one more time not to ride into battle?" he asked, his voice strained with his plea.

I sighed and looked down. "It would, Éomer. I know that I would not be able to rest if I did not ride to defend my home," I said, my own voice strained, but from exasperation and not pleading.

Éomer put his hands to my face and made me looked up at him. His hands felt different from Legolas's hands. Legolas had thin fingers and his hands were soft. Éomer had large hands and his fingers were callused by years of fighting. Despite all of that, I still preferred Éomer's hands to the elf's. Éomer gently rubbed my cheeks with his thumbs, and he studied my face in silence.

"You have a mysterious beauty, Braedia. It has captivated me from the moment you lowered your hood in my tent," Éomer said, his voice soft and low in a whisper.

I smiled slightly, a little bubble of hope forming in my chest.

"I missed your voice the most when I was away from Edoras. It reminds me of diamond bells ringing in the air, even when you are angry at me," Éomer said, putting his forehead to mine.

I put my hands on his chest. I was willing him with my eyes to say those words I wanted to hear so desperately. I could not say them first, but I would shout them from the peak of the tallest mountain for all of Middle-earth to hear, if only he were to say them first.

_Just say it,_ I begged with my eyes. _Tell me that you love me. _

Éomer sighed and straightened up. He moved his hands to my neck and his thumbs traced my jaw line.

"I do not want you to ride into battle, because I need there to be something for me to want to fight for," Éomer said, his voice a fully desperate plea now.

I felt my bubble of hope popping. He was only saying these things to keep me away from the battlefield.

"I will not ride into battle if you say the words you know I want to hear. And do not think that you can say them and not mean them. I will know if you do," I said, my voice hoarse.

I looked strongly into his eyes, and I saw his strength wavering. We were silent for several long minutes, but Éomer said nothing. He had his mouth open, but his breath seemed to be caught in his throat. I gently started to pull away from him, but he took a stronger hold of the back of my head and pulled my lips to his.

His kiss was desperate and I could feel his lower lip shaking. I wanted to pull away, but he wrapped one of his strong arms around the back of my head and the other around my ribcage, holding me to him. I broke away and looked him in the eyes.

"Why must you do this to me? Can you not feel it?" Éomer asked desperately and a little angry.

He kissed me again, and I fought a little against him. We pulled away, and he looked at me with tears in his eyes.

"I need to hear it. I know what I feel, and I do not want to be wrong about what I think I feel from you. Say it. I need to hear those three words in your voice," I said, my own tears forming.

Éomer kissed me again, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. This felt like a kiss good-bye rather than a kiss at the beginning of something.

"Please, you know I feel it. Do not ride out to battle. Stay safe. Stay alive for me," Éomer said, his voice thick with his emotion.

I shook my head. "Say it, and I will. I'll do whatever you want of me, if you would only say it," I insisted.

We kissed again, and our tears flowed together down our faces. We pulled away, and Éomer looked at me.

"I…" he started, but his words caught in his throat.

I detangled myself from his arms. "Just say it. Why is it so hard?" I asked, raising my voice in anger.

"Why can't you?" he said, also raising his voice.

"Because I cannot if you will not. I will not do that again," I said softly.

Éomer tried to grab me again, but I moved away.

"Say it," I said firmly.

He tried to pull me into his arms again, but I moved away one more time. He lunged and grabbed my wrists and pulled me into his chest. I looked into his eyes, my tears flowing.

"Say it, Éomer. Three simple words, and I'll do anything," I whispered.

"I…I…" Éomer said.

But I pulled away and moved even further away. He was not going to say it. I moved forward again, and I took his face in my hands.

"_Le berio Elbereth, galo elenath dîn erin râd lîn_ [May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life],_"_ I said, my voice shaking from my tears.

I kissed his right cheek, and his left cheek, and I could taste his salty tears. I stood on my toes and left a lingering kiss on his forehead.

"Now you cannot lose. I will see you after the battle," I said somberly.

I moved away quickly, and Éomer made no move to pull me back. I walked quickly back to my tent and I was hardly holding back my tears. I expected Éowyn to still be asleep, but I found her sitting up in her cot. She looked at me and rose when I entered.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"Éomer took me away to ask me not to ride into the battle. He kissed me and I told him that I would do whatever he asked if he just told me that he loved me and meant it. But he could not do it," I said, my voice failing.

Éowyn gathered me in her arms and we sat down on her cot. I cried some more, but my tears dried quickly.

"We will ride into battle side by side. We should not be left behind when all of our fellows are going to their deaths," Éowyn said.

"That is not why they ride. They ride to defend their home from evil," I said, sitting up.

"Then it will be only I that rides to my death," Éowyn said with a far off look.

I took her hands in mine and she looked at me.

"You have much left to live for, Éowyn. I will help you survive this battle, and I will show you that there is still hope," I said, sniffing slightly.

Éowyn sighed, but did not fight me. "The men should be beginning to get ready. You have not slept. I will wake you when we need to begin to prepare," Éowyn said, her voice void of emotion.

I shook my head. "I will be okay. There is much to do," I said with a smile.

Éowyn shook her head. "Sleep. You will need your strength," Éowyn said, putting one of her hands to my face.

I sighed, and I found that I was very weary. I went to my cot and I took off my bow, sword, and cloak. I would have to remove these things when it came time to prepare for battle. I laid my head on the pillow, and sleep came quickly.

_I was looking down at Pelennor Fields from above. Two rows of horses, about two score in each, rode along toward Osgiliath. Mounted on each horse was a soldier, clad in the full plate armor of Gondor. At the head of the lines was a face that was familiar to me. He wore the helmet of a Captain: it was Faramir. He had a look of peace on his face. I turned to the city they were riding toward and it was shrouded with darkness and crawling with Orcs. The lines began to pick up speed, and Faramir drew his sword. The horses charged at a gallop, but there were no triumphant cries of war. All the men were silent. I looked back to the Osgiliath, and I saw that Orcs had gathered on the buildings and in the windows, watching the riders approaching. As they drew closer, almost all of the Orcs drew bows and notched arrows. I tried to call out to Faramir, warning him not to get any closer to the lost Osgiliath. But just as I yelled my warning, Faramir called for a charge. The riders were within range, and then, one of the Orc commanders called for his soldiers to fire. The arrows were numerous and they struck almost all of the riders. Faramir was struck once, but he just kept riding, staying strong for his men. But then another volley came down from the Orcs, and Faramir was hit again, and he fell from his horse. I looked, and all of the riders were dead. The Orcs were coming from the city, and Faramir's horse took off back toward Minas Tirth, dragging Faramir by one stirrup._

I woke up with a start to find that Éowyn was standing over me. She had a serious face. The sky was beginning to lighten, but I could tell that it was only very shortly after daybreak.

"It's time," she said seriously.

I nodded and sat up. She dug in her bag and she tossed me a different jerkin. I nodded thankfully. I pulled off my jerkin, and my tunic. I found my wrapping in my bag and wrapped my chest tightly. It would help disguise me and it would help keep me from feeling that strain. I put my personal tunic back on and I folded my jerkin carefully. I slipped on the long piece of clothing that Éowyn gave me, and then I dug into my bag again. I pulled out my mail, and it fell easily over my head and shoulder. It was slightly dirty, but that was fine. I did not want shiny mail to draw attention to myself. Éowyn tossed me a leather chest piece and she helped me tie it tightly. I helped her tie hers just as tightly, and I looked into her eyes. I saw the emptiness there, but I could not allow us to be distracted. I left her to put on her own wrist guards, and I pulled on my own shoulder guards. They were my fathers and it only felt right to wear them if I was going to defend his city. I pulled on my gloves and vambraces, Èowyn helping me to make sure that they were tight. I put on my own greaves, and I turned to my weapons. I adjusted my cloak and threw it over my shoulders. I strapped on my quiver after adjusting it for the extra bulk. I put my sword on and looked at Éowyn. She stood there in her full armor with her sword, and I could see that something besides its weight was on her shoulder. I put my hand on her shoulder and she looked at me.

"We are all Men today, Éowyn," I said, echoing her word from long ago.

She nodded, knowing my meaning. I helped her hide her hair under her helmet. She had been smart and picked one that had a curtain of mail that protected her neck. She tucked my long braid that Legolas had crafted under my cloak. She helped me put on my helmet. It was a clunky thing, but it hid my face well. My eyes were set back and shadowed. We looked at each other for a moment, and we listened.

There were many men that were moving around now, and we knew that we could not go out the front of our tent. I nodded to the back flap, and we left quickly and surreptitiously. Staying hidden in the crowd of busy men was easy. I found our horses and was able to get our hands on a spear. I did not need one, because I had my own quiver and bow. I gave the spear to Éowyn and we quickly armor up our horses. I took off all the excess weight, and I put a chest plate on Narmírë. As I was about to put the saddle back on, Éowyn tossed me a blanket.

"Narmírë is beautiful, but everyone knows that she is your horse," Éowyn said in a low voice.

I nodded and threw the blanket on her. It covered a lot of her coat, but it was lightweight and it would not make her overheat. I saddled her and then moved to her face. I put on an armored bridle. She was reluctant to take the bit, but I eventually coaxed her into it.

By this time, all of the men were up and moving, and I saw that Théoden was exiting his tent with Éomer behind him. They exchanged a few words, and then mounted their horses. Éomer looked around, and I could have sworn his eyes lingered on me for a moment. I looked away, hiding my face, just in case.

Then I saw that Merry was saddling his little pony. I nudged Éowyn and we watched as the king exchanged a few words with the _perian_. It did not look good.

"They are going to leave him behind," Éowyn said in my ear.

My heart nearly broke at the sight. Horses were moving around the hobbit as he stood there, looking lost.

"What a shame," I said with a sad sigh.

Éowyn and I mounted our horses.

"Not if I can help it," Éowyn said angrily.

She moved her horse into a trot, and I followed close behind. We came up behind the _perian _and Éowyn reached down, pulling him up onto her horse by the collar of his shirt. I smiled; of course she would not leave anyone who wanted to fight behind. We followed the rest of the men from our camp down the side of the mountain. I followed closely behind Éowyn, and moved up to her side when we were ordered to ride in pairs through one of the paths. We kept our heads down. Merry had yet to notice that it was me, but he kept looking at me suspiciously.

"Keep your head down, master _perian,_" I said, lowering my voice like I used to when I hid in the Wilds.

I turned so he could see my eyes, and Merry smiled brightly.

"I am glad to see you, Braedia," Merry said, keeping his voice low.

"Form up! Move out! Form up! Move out!" Éomer was shouting from the head of the column.

I was in the middle of the column, and I knew that he could not see me.

"Ride! Ride now to Gondor!" Théoden shouted to his men.

Once we cleared the camp, all of the horses broke out into a gallop. I felt the excitement, and morbid anticipation settling into my chest. I was riding to fight the battle I was meant to fight. I knew that in my heart. I was riding to _my_ battle, and I would ride to whatever end lie ahead.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Here it is: the start of the battle. I know how much you guys were looking forward to this chapter, so I'm not going to take up room up here to respond to reviews. That will be at the bottom. But, I will take the time to say that we've just gone over 20,000 hits, and we are really close to hitting 21,000. As always, I am flabbergasted and so humbled by the response I've been getting. It means more than I could ever possibly put into words. So thank you, and I hope you enjoy this.**

**Also, if you're looking for some sort of music to listen to while reading this chapter, I highly recommend "The Battle of Pelennor Fields" from the Return of the King soundtrack. It really sets the tone for this chapter. However, if you are going to listen to that while reading, don't start the music until you hit the line break I've put in. **

**One last thing, super duper brownie points to whomever can find the slightly paraphrased "The Great Gatsby" quote in this chapter.  
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><p>We had ridden a long while, through one night, and we rested at what was considered to the half point of our journey. I sat on the ground next to Merry, who was eating. Éowyn was standing, looking out over the crowd. She had her helmet off, which I found to be dangerous. I kept my own on, despite how uncomfortable it was. Éowyn could be mistaken for a man of Rohan, but my black hair was a dead giveaway.<p>

I saw that Éomer was riding in and he rode to the king. It felt good to know that he was keeping himself busy. I went to mine and Éowyn's horses and rubbed Narmírë's neck. She was faring well, despite my extra weight. Éowyn and I had traded Merry back and forth for a large part of the ride, but it was growing too dangerous to for us to do that. Merry decided that he was going to ride in with Éowyn, which I appreciated. She could look after the _perian; _I just had to look after her.

"Make ready!" I heard Théoden shout.

I looked to Éowyn and she sighed heavily.

"Take heart. It will be over soon," she said with her shoulders sagging.

Merry looked up from his sandwich. "My lady. You are fair and brave and have much to live for and many who love you. I know it is too late to turn aside. I know there is not much point now in hoping," Merry said.

Éowyn and I looked at the little _perian_. He looked so dejected. He looked back at Éowyn.

"If I were a knight of Rohan capable of great deeds…but I'm not. I'm a Hobbit. And I know I can't save Middle Earth. I just want to help my friends; Frodo, Sam, Pippin. More than anything I wish I could see them again," Merry said, his voice breaking.

I went over to him and stood in front of him. "A wise man once gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since," I said seriously.

He stood up and I knelt to look him in the eyes.

"He told me that even this darkness must pass. There is always hope, even in the darkest of hours. Day always breaks, even when it seems like night will never end. If we do not keep hope, then we have nothing," I said.

My words seemed to send a spark into his eyes and he set his shoulders.

"Prepare to move out!" the man responsible for those words shouted.

Merry tossed down his sandwich and put his helmet on, and Éowyn put her helmet back as well.

"To battle," she said seriously.

Merry grinned. "To battle," he said.

I smiled and stood. Éowyn and I mounted up and she pulled Merry into the saddle with her. We joined the company, and began our ride to Minas Tirith. I lost myself in my thought along the way. I was terrified as what the state of the city would be. I saw the White City in all of her glory when I left all those years ago, and I did not want that memory to be tainted.

We rode through the night, and I thought that I would feel weary. But I found that I could not close my eyes, even for a moment. Narmírë would not let me fall, and I had a good hold on her, so I could have let myself doze for a short while. My mind raced. My dreams about the great battle came back to me, and I could not shake them.

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><p>The company slowed near dawn to form the ranks we would ride in. Éomer was picking his guard out of the crowd, and he looked at me for a long moment. I shook my head ever so slightly, because I knew that, if he had his way, I would join his <em>éored<em>. He nodded ever so slightly and we held gazes for a long moment before he moved on. I rode beside Éowyn, and she joined the king's banner in the second row. We rode only a few yards from the king, and it made me nervous. But it was not my place to question her. I was just there to protect her.

At long last, we crested the little rise before the fields of Pelennor. I looked down and I felt my heart breaking. The entire field was shrouded in darkness from a great curtain of black clouds overhead. I looked to my home city, and I could feel tears burning my eyes. The lower levels of the city were burning, and I could see massive holes in some of the buildings where rocks had been hurled against it. In the field, a massive number of Orcs in huge ranks stood. There were giant siege towers, and I could see all manner of disgusting beast below.

Most of the men whispered and mumbled, and I could hear fear in their voices. I looked to Éowyn and Merry, and they looked terrified. But the only thing I could feel in my blood was raw anger. I was furious that these creatures were even setting foot in my beloved city. How dare they defile the White City with their filth? I drew my sword, and I gripped it tightly. I shifted my reigns to one hand, and I could tell that Narmírë could feel my battle lust. Théoden was shouting orders at his generals, and then he turned to his men.

"Forth and fear no darkness! Arise! Arise riders of Théoden!" he shouted as he cantered up and down the ranks.

He went by Éowyn and I, and I saw her duck her head. Even if he did see us, there was very little he could do to stop us now. Well, there was very little he could do to stop me. I had murder in my veins, and I would not stop until every filthy creature was destroyed.

"Spears shall be shaken! Shields shall be splintered! A sword day! A red day! 'Ere the sun rises!" Théoden shouted even louder.

His speech was only adding to the fire in my belly. I wanted to gallop right now, but I had to wait for the charge. The men in the front lowered their spears and Théoden drew his sword. He cantered down the line, his sword raised to rattle the lowered spears.

"Ride now! Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin, and the world's ending! DEATH!" Théoden shouted at the top of his voice.

The men around me shouted the word back to the king.

"DEATH!"

"DEATH!"

The sound was deafening. I felt my heart beating in my ears. I tightened my grip around the handle of my sword.

"DEATH!"

"DEATH!" I shouted, raising my sword. I was careful not to shout too loudly, though I doubted one shrill voice could be heard in the cacophony around me.

"Forth Eorlingas!" The king said, pointing his sword forward.

The men around us raised their horns to their lips, and the sound bellowed in my gut, and it set my heart racing. Théoden began to walk the company forward. It took all of my control to prevent Narmírë from breaking away into a gallop. The progress was slow at first, but then our speed built as we charged down the hill toward the ranks of black creatures ahead of us.

I rose out of my seat, standing in the stirrups as we galloped forward. I was vaguely aware of Éowyn and Merry next to me, but even they were fading. I wanted to bathe in Orc blood tonight. I heard the arrows before I saw them. They whizzed past my head and landed in my fellow riders. We had spaced out enough in the charge that some missed us entirely, but I could not ignore the sounds of men falling off of their horses or horses themselves falling. But I could not be distracted. I found my opening in the line. I had found my way into the front of the charge, and I would be one of the first to break through the lines. I had to take out some Orcs so the riders behind me could get through. I twirled my sword in my hand.

Time slowed down so I could count seconds between my heartbeats. I saw the slimy face of the Orc in front of me. I heard the pounding of Narmírë's hooves below me. I could hear my own panting breaths. I was closing the gap between me and the Orc in front of me. I could see the panic in his eyes. He had a pike, but he dropped it as he tried to flee. The coward.

Suddenly time was back to its normal pace. I cut off the head of the Orc that tried to flee, and I sliced through more in front of me. I barely slowed my pace, and I could feel the collisions with the Orcs in front of me. But they were knocked to the ground and were being trampled by those behind me. I slashed and sliced, and soon my glove was soaked in black blood. Once, after I cut off one creature's arm, some of his blood sprayed my face, but I made no move to wipe it away. I was not suffering from a little Orc blood on my skin.

I lost track of Éowyn and Merry. I just wanted to kill every stinking, foul, traitorous beast that got within sword's reach. I eventually stopped my gallop to stay in one place and just wait for the Orcs to come to me. I found that they were eager to meet their death at the end of my blade. I relished in the feeling of my sword slicing through their flesh. It was no small wonder that men fought wars so often. The battlefield was exciting.

I felt an Orc clawing at my leg, and I stabbed him in the eye. I looked down and saw that he had tried to cut me from my saddle, but had made little progress. I turned and stabbed and fought. I vaguely felt my limbs growing tired, but I could not pay attention to it. I had to keep my strength so I could fight more. I could not even conceive of how the company was doing as a whole, whether we were winning or losing. Then Éomer's voice called over the battlefield.

"Drive them to the river!" he shouted.

My natural sense of direction in this place allowed me to wheel Narmírë around and chase the Orcs toward the river. I stopped short as I heard Théoden shout over the noise.

"Make safe the city!" he said loudly.

But then I felt the earth rumble beneath me. It felt like an earthquake, but it was short. But then it was followed by another monstrous rumble. I turned and I felt the breath leave me. Before my eyes was a line of Mûmakil. There was more than a score of them, and atop each was a massive tower full of archers. They were Haradrim, from the south, and their leader sounded a terrible horn. Their chanting grew louder, and the Rohirrim grew nervous.

After several moments of complete awe, Théoden shook himself and began to shout orders. He ordered us to reform the line to charge and take them head on. I moved to the front, determined to be on the offensive. I glanced briefly to my right and left, and I found that I was right next to Éomer. He must have sensed my gaze because he looked down and recognized me. I nodded as I heard the horn sound and we took off at a gallop toward the enormous beasts.

I gave a mighty roar. I put away my sword and I pulled my bow out from my quiver. I was thanking Legolas as I galloped that he had taught me how to do this. Without his training, I would be next to useless here. Éomer had his spear. I saw one of the beasts raise its head and it swept the ground with its barbed tusks that were larger than any of the trees in Fangorn. I felt Narmírë pulling to follow Firefoot, and I let her. She had better instincts than I did.

I raised my bow and started firing arrows at the archers in the towers. I separated from Éomer and began to shoot for the men controlling the monsters. My first arrow landed in the cheek of the Mûmakil, but my second and third arrows landed in its two eyes. I had blinded the monster. I turned Narmírë around and found that he was facing down the lead Mûmakil. I shot another arrow at the monster I was facing, and it landed in the shoulder of the driver. The shock made him fall, and the monster was without a driver. It slowed to a confused walk. I turned back to Éomer.

"_Hafela, Éomer! Se hafela!_ [Heads, Éomer! The heads!]_"_ I shouted at the top of my voice.

He nodded and flipped his spear in his hand. I followed it through the air and I saw it land in the middle of the leader's chest. He felt from its head and pulled one of the reigns with it. I backed away from the scene as the Mûmakil walked directly under the legs of the one next to it. That one, the one that I just blinded, crumbled on top of the one that collided with it, and they both fell to the ground, unable to move.

I looked to Éomer and he nodded at me. I saw that he was wearing a huge grin under his helmet. In that moment, as our eyes connected, the rest of the chaotic battle seemed to fade. It was just him and I atop our horses. We had just worked as a fine team to bring down two of the bigger threats to the Men around us. Maybe it was the elation of killing something so massive or the realization that either one of us could die at any given moment, but Éomer never looked so handsome.

Another Mûmakil gave a roar, and the word snapped into focus. I looked around, and I found that there was still an awful lot of fighting to do. I looked back to Éomer once more, gave a triumphant whoop, and turned Narmírë around to fight some more.

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><p><strong>AN: Okay, so this is where I'm going to respond to the reviews. There were 13 (a new record, so good on you guys).**

**deepofnight: I was particularly impressed with the speed at which you reviewed. I posted the chapter and within twenty minutes, you reviewed. **

**Certh: 12 volumes? And this is why I use the Internet and Google...**

**WV: 'Defenestrate' is one of my favorite words in the English language. It just makes me giggle. So super duper brownie points to you for that. **

**Abi The BakersGirl and CrocScale: You have no idea how many weird looks I got in the break room when I read those reviews and then burst out laughing. This is why I love you guys so much.**

**CharlotteCookson: I'm pretty sure there's already a film...little thing, maybe you haven't heard of it, called "The Lord of the Rings"? Just because my character isn't in the movie doesn't mean that you shouldn't watch it. And you can bet your ass that there's going to be a sequel (the title to which I will be announcing within the next couple chapters).**

**Willow: I'm getting to the part you sent me soon. I had to spend my days off helping my mom so it's been a little hectic.**

**rosewriter: Now that you've read the battle, did it live up to your expectations? But don't get mad at me. The Battle of Pelennor Fields is just beginning.**

**joushou: No, you are completely correct. This could either end very happily or with everyone in tears. Of course, I'm one of the very few people who know exactly what is going to happen, which makes all of the waiting ya'll are doing that much more fun for me.**

**BlueBonnet: Did you die? No? Good, because there are still 14 more chapters to go before the end.**

**brandi and Vbelanger: I'm going to try to update as often as I can, but we'll just see how revisions go. I'm editing as I post (along with the help of my beta) so it's just a matter of when I can find the time to sit down and write. Hopefully it'll stay the same, but we'll just play it by ear.**

**Lystan: If you are only JUST figuring out that men are idiots, I feel very sorry for you. But I hope you won't hate me too much, because we've still got a ways to go.**

**LightsCDark: I'm pretty sure that, even if he had said that he loved her, it would have just been to keep her from going, and she would have seen that, and then still gone. There was no way that Braedia WASN'T going to defend Minas Tirith (excepting if Eowyn had actually listened to her uncle and gone back to Edoras, but something in me still says that she would have gone). And I blame Eomer's "hard-ness" on the point of view I'm writing this story from. It's first person and, if Braedia doesn't know, then you won't know. But, as I said to someone else before you, first person is wonderful at adding an extra level of tension.**

**I guess that this is the place where I'm going to warn everyone. I have yet to remove any reviews from this story, because everyone has been overwhelmingly supportive and focused on the story. I am willing to even accept and keep flames, as long as the comments that are posted pertain to the story. But, if you are going to post chain letters or petitions in my review box, I will have no choice but to report them. **

**Moving on, how did you guys like the chapter? Did you like the reviews at the end as opposed to the beginning? If so, let me know and I'll keep it up. Also, did you find "The Great Gatsby" quote? Let me know in your review (if you choose to leave one).**


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: A few housekeeping things. **

**First: I logged on just to see where this was at as far as hits, and it was a little surreal. I caught it just as it hit 21,000. I am never underestimating you guys ever again. **

**Second: the super duper brownie points go to LightsCDark, who guessed correctly where I hid my "The Great Gatsby" quote. You can go and find the review where she explains it. I know, I slightly paraphrased, but it fit better. **

**Third: if you are looking for some new fanfictions to read, I've found two (not ones suggested by readers, but ones that I found from your favorites pages [said the creeper]). First is called "Heart of the Horselord" by ryongeny. The second is called "The Ugly Duckling of Dol Amroth" by Spake2121. "Heart of the Horselord" and is an Eomer/OC fic. It's complete, and has a bunch of sequels to it, while "The Ugly Duckling" is an Eomer/Lothiriel story (but it might as well be an Eomer/OC fic), and is still in progress. If you do decide to go over to those stories and read them, review telling the author that I sent you. Honestly, I am almost reluctant to send you guys there because the stories are so well written that it sort of puts my story to shame. But, far be it from me to deny anyone who deserves readers their due. We can share anyway. **

**Lastly: if you're looking for something to listen to for this chapter, my suggestion is "The Last Debate" from The Return of the King soundtrack. You can start at the beginning of the chapter and there should be no problems. Review responses at the end.**

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><p>I heard one of the Mûmakil give a roar, and I turned Narmírë around again. I saw that a Mûmak had gone up on its hind legs. I pulled out my last arrow and I shot it just as the beast was opening its mouth to give a great cry. I heard Théoden shouting to bring it down, and then I saw my arrow lodge into the roof of the beast's mouth. I also saw that a spear had been driven into one of its hind legs. I put my bow away, and I pulled out my sword. The great beast fell, and I galloped around its bulk to fight the men climbing out of the tower.<p>

I slashed and stabbed. I turned once, and I saw that one of the Haradrim had a little person pulled clean off the ground. I recognized Merry's cloak as he stabbed the Haradrim repeatedly. If that was Merry, then Éowyn could not be far. I looked around and I saw that Éowyn was on the ground fighting. I also looked and saw that Théoden was nearby.

In the short seconds that it took for me to find my friends, I had let my guard drop. I felt a slash in my leg and I cried out in pain. I looked down and stabbed the Orc responsible. I looked and saw that the cut wasn't so terrible, so I pushed the throbbing pain aside. The wound was not bleeding heavily, but the blade had been dull which made the cut rough.

I looked at the condition of the girth strap that was next to my leg and I knew that it would not last long. I pulled my legs out of the stirrups and then slashed the strap myself. I felt it starting to slide, but I jumped before it could throw me to the ground. I turned to Narmírë and grabbed her reigns. I directed her away from the battle and gave her a swift slap to the rump. The last thing I needed was a horse to look after.

But as I watched her gallop away from the battle, I felt a pain in my shoulder. I felt back, and an arrow was sticking out of my shoulder. It had not gone deep, because my back armor and chain mail had slowed it considerably. But the tip had pierced my skin enough for me to feel it. I cried out as I pulled the arrow from my shoulder. I looked at the arrow and saw that it was Haradrim. I got to my feet again, and I wheeled around. I looked up and I found that many of the Mûmakil were still standing, so it could have been any of them. I pulled out my sword, ready to fight.

But then a terrible cry sounded and I grasped my ears in pain. Great swooping noises resounded and I saw a terrible winged beast descending onto the battlefield. I threw myself onto the ground, just barely avoiding the great claws. I jumped up quickly, and I was surrounded by Orcs. I killed them as quickly as I could. I heard the winged beast pick up a horse and rider. I turned and saw that the fell beast throw the horse and rider to the ground. It was a white horse, with a beautiful leather caparison. Wait, I knew that leather armor. Only one man in all of Rohan had protection like that for his mount.

I tried to run to my king, but I found my path blocked, I cut down the Orcs as I tried to reach the king, but new ones replaced the Orcs that I killed. I was making some progress, but I could not advance more than a few steps at a time. Then I heard a strange noise, and I looked to see the fell beast had been beheaded. It flopped around for a moment or two, but then fell to the ground with a great thump. I looked as saw its rider, a great creature hooded in black and wearing an iron mantle rise from the corpse of his steed. I felt my heart stop for a few beats. It was the same creature that I saw Éowyn dueling in my dream.

I struggled to reach her, but my way was blocked by the Orcs around us. I lost count of how many I killed; all I could think about was getting to Éowyn's side. I heard the creature call out again, and I whipped around. I didn't realize how close I actually was to her. I watched as Merry fell to the ground, clutching his arm. The black figure fell to his knees and Éowyn stood in front of it. She ripped off her helmet and panted.

"I am no man," she said firmly.

Then she gave a great cry and drove her sword deep into the face of the creature before her. The sword shot back out and away from her hand and she collapsed. I watched as the black figure was crushed by the air around us, and crumpled into a heap of cloth on the ground. I started to run toward the white horse again, but found that my path was once again blocked by more Orcs. I cut them down and finally made my way to the king. He looked up at me, but he was weak.

"I will stand with you, Théoden King," I said, not even thinking to disguise my voice.

I defended the king from Orcs still came up and tried to attack us. I grunted and groaned, but I was growing weak. I took several blows, and I could feel the pain radiating from all of them. I was panting hard.

"I know your voice. Braedia," Théoden said weakly.

"Yes, my lord. I am here," I panted as I defended us against the enemies.

"Come here, my child," Théoden called.

I stabbed on Orc through the chest. Then I turned and dropped to my knees by Théoden's head. I gently moved some of his hair that had fallen into his face.

"I want you to know that I always considered you one of my own. You were like the daughter I always wanted," he said, coughing a little.

I felt my tears well up in my eyes. He could not talk like this.

"You are going to be fine, my lord. Do not say these things like you are on your death bed," I shouted, trying to keep my hope. I could not lose him. He was the only person left that was like my parents.

Théoden coughed and I felt a shudder run through me. Those were not the sounds any man hoping to make a recovery should be making.

"Let me see your eyes," he said softly.

I quickly ripped my helmet from my head. My braid, the one that Legolas had made, was still in my hair, though some locks were starting to come out. Théoden smiled at me. I quickly moved down to kiss his forehead.

"I wish you many happy years, Braedia. You will make an excellent queen for him," Théoden said softly.

I swallowed again, and I wanted to argue with the king. I knew that he spoke of Éomer and I, but I felt that I shouldn't tell a dying man he was wrong. But I heard more Orcs approaching, so I to turn and defend his body from their mutilations.

"I will return for you, my lord.," I said strongly.

"Father," Théoden said softly.

"My lord?" I questioned, confused.

"Call me Father, for you are my daughter, now and always," Théoden said, taking my hand.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Father," I said, my tears spilling over. I leaned down kissed his forehead, letting a tear or two fall.

I stood, looking around to make sure that no Orcs tried to defile his body. But, as I looked, I felt my blood run cold. Éomer was fighting a short distance away. Somehow, he had dismounted Firefoot and was on the ground, surrounded by five Orcs. He was fighting, and fighting well, but there seemed to be more Orcs coming at him before he could cut down those that threatened him.

I looked over to Théoden, conflicted. I had vowed to stay with him. But Éomer was in desperate need of help. Théoden was looking up at me, but I could tell that he wasn't really seeing me. I looked back to Éomer, and the situation was only getting worse. I looked back to Théoden, and my relief came quickly. I saw that Èowyn had found her uncle and was now dragging herself to him. At least he wouldn't be alone.

I gripped my sword a little tighter and gave a mighty roar as I ran toward Éomer. He was now facing at least seven Orcs by himself. They almost seemed to be taunting him, because they could have easily overtaken him at any moment. The Orcs didn't seem to hear my battle cry until it was too late. One turned at the sound, but I ran him through with my sword before he could even puzzle out what had happened.

The creature's fellows seemed to notice my appearance then, even if Éomer didn't. Three of them came at me and I was able to dispatch two without a single problem. But the third was a little smaller, and a little quicker, than the other. He dashed around and I was barely able to swing at him before he moved. The Orc gave a cackling gargle of a laugh, taunting me now, too. My hair was flying around me, some of it still in Legolas's braid, but several pieces had come free.

The Orc lunged, and suddenly, my sword left my hand. I was in shock for a moment as I saw his blade swinging for my head. But a flash of memory came to me. I saw him not as an Orc on Pelennor, but Legolas in the plains outside of Edoras. I ducked and pulled my knife from my boot, shoving it up into the weak spot of his armor. The Orc froze and I pushed him off of the blade and onto the ground. I stood, looking to Éomer. He was staring at me with wide eyes, as if he was unsure of what he was seeing. I gave him a cheeky grin, pushing some of my hair from my face. Éomer shook his head, still in shock. I gave him a little salute before grabbing my sword and jogging away through the smoke.

I went back to where the king lay, and found that Èowyn had collapsed on top of her uncle's body, sobbing over her uncle's body. I knelt next to her, glad that, for a moment, the Orcs were leaving us in peace.

"_Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath_ [May they find peace in death]," I whispered, feeling my own tears stinging my eyes again.

Èowyn didn't seem to hear me, so lost she was in her grief. I decided to let her mourn, knowing that my time to do so had already past. I heard more Orcs approaching, and I had to protect my family.

I stood and turned, ready to face the Orc that was coming at us. I didn't expect the Orc to be so close, and I found myself momentarily stunned at the lack of distance between us. In that moment, the Orc swung its blade at me. Before I could react, the blade collided with my left thigh, sending me flying several feet to the right. I cried out in pain, but I felt something rush through me, giving me the ability to push the pain aside for now. I stood on shaky legs, raising my sword as high as it would go. I parried a few blows, but the Orc was strong, and all of the wounds I had acquired were starting to grate on my endurance. But, quick enough, my sword was knocked from my hand. I ducked and pulled out my knife again. I was able to get in a few parried before the Orc came at me again. His sword connected with my shoulder, the one that had been hit with the arrow. The blade didn't slice through my pauldron or the mail, but the ring of it caused me to gasp out in pain, dropping to my knees.

I knelt before the Orc, and he laughed. I looked behind him, and I was able to see the White City through my hazy vision. There seemed to be a ghostly green glow over the lower levels, but the White Tower, my home, shone like fire in the sky. I sighed, closing my eyes. I was going to die, but at least I was going to die in the shadow of the city I was born in, a city that I had defended until the last of my strength.

I waited for the blow from the Orc above me, but it never came. I opened my eyes and found that he had been taken down by an arrow to the back. I vaguely recognized the fletching and the shaft, but my foggy mind wouldn't let me truly place them. I twisted slightly to look back at Èowyn and Théoden. They were still lying where I left them, and seemed to be doing fine.

I let my body give in to the heavy feelings in my libs. I fell back against a pile of something and just rested. I reached down and slid my knife, still clutched in my fist, into my boot. There was another hot flash of pain, but I figured that it was coming from the gushing wound on my thigh. I relaxed again, staring up at the sky. The black clouds were thinning above me, which was comforting.

There were no Orcs attacking me, and maybe if I closed my eyes, they would think I was dead and wouldn't bother me. I could use a rest. I sighed and let my eyes slide closed. I thought I heard something next to me, like a snort or a huff of a breath, but I lay perfectly still, not wanting to give any hint to any Orcs around me. Perhaps it would get close enough for me to attack. But I had to rest for a moment to regain my strength.

Just for a moment…just for a little while…I could just…lay here…and…then I would…fight some more…I…had to…find…Leg..olas…

_Éomer._

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><p><strong>AN: Review response time!**

**Abi TheBakersGirl: Don't think for a second that I don't appreciate every single person that reads this story. I've been on both ends, and I know how discouraging it is not to get any readers. This is why I take the time to let you guys know I care in the best why I can: by responding to your reviews.**

**rosewriter: Not going to lie, I was listening to that piece of beautiful music while I wrote the chapter, so I had the music in mind. I'm not going to say that I wrote to the music, but it was just uncanny.**

**CharlotteCookson: Unfortunately, I think my beta would kill me if I just posted everything at once, because it all has to go through her first. And hey, if you're bored and so inclined, I would be more than happy to write a short screenplay to any of the scenes in this story, if someone wants to film it. Just PM. And this is no joke.**

**Vbelanger: Not too much of a wait this time. But you guys have been so good, so you deserve it (plus I don't know how long it's going to take me to revise the next chapter).**

**Bluebonnet: Don't feel like a failure. It was well hidden and only really big "The Great Gatsby" nerds like me and a few others would see how much I paraphrased it. Are you guys liking the music suggestions, because I'll continue doing them when I can if you want me to?**

**Certh: Sweetie, you've done more than enough. I don't thank you as often as I should. I'm not going to get mad over one slip (plus, I fixed it in this chapter). Also, don't get mad at me over the Elvish in this chapter. It's a direct quote from "The Two Towers" so it's not my fault if it's wrong.**

**Lystan: Anything you say makes me feel better, as long as you don't hate me. Which I hope is a state that will continue as you finish this chapter.**

**CrocScale: I've been told that I write my fiction like movies, my poetry like fiction, and my screenplays like poetry, so it's no small wonder that you feel like you're following Braedia around with a camera and seeing everything she sees. And I think I'm going to keep review responses at the end. I won't feel as guilty for going on forever.**

**WV: Don't tell the others, but the next portion of the series is going to be called "A Light From the Shadow". This is just between you and me...oops. Well, we'll just see who catches this :)**

**LightsCDark: Was this cliffhanger-y enough for you? And no, I will not tell you what happened. You will just have to wait. Also, you have no idea how hard it was for me, in my head, not to make any 'arrow to the knee' jokes when I read your review. I don't even play Skyrim, and let me tell you, it was excruciating. **

**Willow: Still going to get to your chapter...eventually (said the procrastinator...)**


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: So it's like four in the morning where I am, and I can't sleep. So I decided to post a new chapter! You are welcome. I have no music suggestions for this chapter, though I don't think you're going to need one. Also, I'd like to thank my beta, Certh, for everything she's done for this story. She has been beyond helpful and always getting back to me with her comments, sometimes within hours of me sending stuff to her. And she puts up with my feeble attempts at Elvish, which has been more than I could ask of anyone. Review responses are going to be at the bottom. Now on with the story.**

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><p>The battle was over. The Army of the Dead had been allowed to pass. Everything was quiet. Legolas stood and watched as the men tried to find anyone still alive. He knew that Braedia had to be around here somewhere. The only way she would not have ridden into this battle is if someone had killed her before they even left the camp. Legolas began to move among the bodies, trying to find his friend. Éomer looked at the fallen strewn on the ground. They were all very clearly dead. His men had died to free this city.<p>

_It was a beautiful city; it's no small wonder that Braedia loved it so much,_ Éomer thought to himself as he looked at it.

The white stone shone in the light that was breaking through the clouds. The black veil had been dissipating ever since they had arrived. But then a thought struck him. _Braedia. _

Éomer felt a moment of pride welling in his chest. Braedia was constantly telling him that she was a skilled fighter, but nothing proved her words more than when she had risked her own life to save his. She had never looked more beautiful to him than when the lust of battle was shining in her mysterious green-grey eyes. But, as the pride passed, he began his search with a new panic. She had run off into the smoke, and he had not seen where she had got to. Everything was so chaotic after the Men of the Mountain had arrived.

_No, she is a good fighter. She still lives,_ he thought to himself.

Éomer looked around again, and then something caught his eyes. There was a horse of white, a horse he would recognize any day as his uncle's horse. But lying near it was a soldier with rather long golden blond hair. The face was too fair to be any man. He took steps closer to the man, and more detail came into view. Éomer felt his heart stop as he recognized the soldier lying on the ground as his sister. He cried out loudly as he ran to her. He dropped his sword and fell to his knees. Éowyn was pale as the moon, and she was cold. Éomer sobbed and cried out to the sky. His sister could not be dead. Braedia promised to take care of her.

Éomer felt someone come up beside him and through the haze of his tears, Éomer recognized Aragorn. The man, the courageous man, looked at his sister. Aragorn put a finger to Éowyn's neck and his eyes lit up. Éomer looked and, just there, he saw that she still breathed. Éomer clung to his wounded sister as Aragorn called for a litter to be brought. Healers ran over the bodies as quickly as they could. The litter was placed on the ground and Éomer put his sister in it. He saw that she had a badly injured arm then, and his heart flipped over. The healers lifted Éowyn off of the ground and Éomer followed, all concern for anyone beside his sister gone.

_Braedia is strong. She is alive, I know it. I could feel it if she were fallen,_ Éomer rationalized as he followed the Healers from the battlefield into Minas Tirith.

Legolas had heard Éomer's cry, and he had thought that the man had found Braedia. But he watched from a distance as Éomer followed his sister's litter into the city. Legolas looked around. He knew that Braedia would not be far from the lady.

Then suddenly, Legolas's eyes landed on a strange sight. A horse was walking toward him. But the horse was walking backward, dragging something in its mouth. The progress was slow because the horse was stopping to move the objects in its path. It stopped again and the thing that it was dragging dropped. Legolas watched as the horsed kicked and moved bodies from its path and then picked up the object in its teeth again.

Unable to contain his curiosity anymore, Legolas went up to the horse. As he drew nearer, he recognized the horse as none other than Narmírë. Legolas sprinted the last few yards to the horse's side, touching her flank and speaking soothingly in Elvish to prevent the horse from spooking. He looked down to the burden the horse was dragging, and was confused for a moment. A tangled mess of black hair obscured the person's face. The body was covered in blood, both Orc and red blood. The person wore a quiver, but not a bow. The object had probably been lost on the drag. The scabbard at the person's side was empty.

Legolas knelt down, his heart in his throat. Very gently, Legolas moved the hair from the person's face. He could have burst into tears as the face of Braedia was revealed. Legolas quickly put his ear to her mouth, and he heard the faintest of breath.

"Aragorn!" he yelled.

Legolas gathered Braedia up in his arms and put her on Narmírë's back. He leaped up onto Narmírë's bare back as his friend ran to him.

"I found Braedia. She's alive. I'm taking her to the Houses of Healing," Legolas said firmly.

He adjusted Braedia so she sat sideways on Narmírë, her head in the crook of Legolas's shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her tightly, and he felt her flinch. He hated himself for causing her more pain, but he had to make sure that she remained on the horse for the ride to the Houses of Healing. Legolas took a hold of a handful of Narmírë's mane. He nudged the horse's sides and she took off like lightning toward the city.

Legolas held on as best as he could. He could have smiled at the bond between horse and rider. Narmírë knew that Braedia was in trouble. The horse had dragged Braedia to people, because she knew that the woman needed help. Now the horse was racing up the destroyed streets of Minas Tirith to the Houses of Healing as fast as her legs would go. They reached the healing place in little time. Legolas gathered Braedia up again and slid from Narmírë's back. Some healers took hold of Narmírë, but Legolas was too busy to give them instructions to make sure that horse had the finest lodgings in the city. Narmírë was a hero as much as any of the other fighters were.

Legolas burst into the room, and found that panic was in the air. He spotted Éomer up a short flight of stairs, sitting next to Éowyn's litter. Legolas knew that Braedia would want to be near them, so he moved through the healers and ordered one to bring a litter to be placed next to Éowyn. Éomer looked up briefly, but did not really acknowledge Legolas and the woman in his arms. It was not until Legolas set Braedia down that Éomer even saw that it was Legolas. He looked up at the elf and stood quickly.

"You found her?" he asked desperately.

Legolas motioned to the litter where Braedia lay, and Éomer felt his heart breaking. She looked so broken.

"She is still alive, my friend. I found her on the battlefield, not far from Éowyn. Narmírë was dragging Braedia to the city," Legolas told the man.

Éomer looked up at Legolas, his eyes reading his disbelief. He knew that the bond between horse and rider was strong, but Narmírë had no way of knowing that the city was where safety was. But somehow, the horse had found a way to save the rider. Éomer fell back onto the little stool that he had been sitting in before. He looked between his sister and Braedia, trying to decide who was worse.

The healers were taking off Braedia's armor, and as more layers were peeled away, the worse the wounds became. She had one large cut on her thigh. It was not deep, and it looked to be the oldest of the wounds. Some were still bleeding, while this one was clotting. Éomer imagined her battle experience as he saw each of the wounds.

_The thigh injury probably happened while she was on a horse,_ he thought.

She had a few more bruises on her legs, but they were not serious. He then saw that she had a large cut to her shoulder. The direction and size showed him that it was an arrow wound. Her arms and legs were covered in small cuts and abrasions from close combat. The healers went to remove her breeches, and they twisted her hips to get the them off of her. Braedia, even in her unconscious state, grabbed on to the healers and shoved them away. Éomer could have killed those healers as they made her cry and sob until her breeches and hose were completely removed.

They had place a blanket over her modesty, but the wound to her hip was staggering. There was a massive bruise that ran all the way up her leg from ankle to ribcage. Éomer could imagine the blow's size and how her bone was more than likely broken. The skin had split where the weapon had come in contact with her. But Éomer was most shocked by the long cut that ran from her mid-shin to her ankle along the side of her leg. When the healers had pulled off her boots, her knife had clattered to the floor. It had never done that before, and Éomer was made nervous. But as her hose came off, Éomer saw that she had cut her own leg.

"She is never going to be allowed to carry a knife in her boot again," Legolas spat angrily as he looked at the wound.

Éomer looked at the elf. He had not moved from the foot of her litter since it had arrived. He was still standing, despite him having fought in the battle. Éomer felt his own tiredness prickling at the back of his eyes, but the elf looked like he could stand forever. Now he was staring down at the wound on Braedia's leg, and Éomer could see the guilt.

"She would not have used the knife if she had another weapon, but it is still so dangerous to carry a weapon like that," Legolas said, almost to himself.

He was shaking his head. He had known something like this would happen. She had a sheath for the knife in her boot, but she had most likely missed it in her state of exhaustion. He would have preferred that she not try to sheath it.

At long last, Aragorn came into the Houses of Healing. Both Éomer and Legolas looked up from their charges to follow his path to them. Aragorn knelt between the two women, looking between them.

"Who will you treat first?" Éomer asked.

He, himself, could not decide who he wanted to see recover first. Éowyn only had her one shattered arm, but she was cold as death itself. Braedia on the other hand was beginning to burn with a fever and some of her wounds were still bleeding.

Aragorn bit his lower lip, hesitating. He had just come from the bedside of Faramir. He had been touched by a similar ailment as Èowyn. They were calling it the Black Breath, and those who fell victim to it were likely never to wake. But the wound to Braedia's shoulder was troubling. It was not deep, but the color and swelling around the wound suggested poison. He looked between the women, and then came to a decision.

"_Legolas, eitho nin. Nesto Braedia,_ [Legolas, help me. Heal Braedia.]" Aragorn whispered before standing and fetching what he would need to heal Èowyn.

Legolas looked up from Braedia's pallet, absolute confusion in his eyes. "_Man naegra anden?_ [What ails her?]" he called to Aragorn as he crossed the room.

Aragorn shook his head before returning. Legolas knelt and gently began to inspect Braedia's wounds. She moaned every time he touched her, and her skin was burning. Legolas winced; he was a warrior, not a healer. He never took extreme pleasure in killing, though he always tried to do so in the most efficient manner possible. Suffering was something he neither wished to cause nor have to watch any of his fellows endure. He looked at her shoulder wound and his heart plummeted. He had seen poisoned wounds enough to know the signs.

Éomer watched as the elf worked, and felt bile rise in his throat as the elf paled and sat back on his heels. The expression that Legolas was wearing was not one that Éomer wished to see.

"What? What is wrong with her?" Éomer demanded harshly.

"Poison. A complex one. It will keep the wounds from healing, and will lead to more festering," Legolas whispered, unable to make his voice any louder.

Éomer nearly fell off the stool he was sitting on. Aragorn had returned with a little bowl of water and an herb for Éowyn. But Éomer nearly stopped him and demanded that the new king heal Braedia. She was clearly the one in more danger. Éomer looked back to Legolas, who had gotten to his feet. Éomer had never seen a look of so much despair as the one that Legolas was wearing in that moment.

"You cannot ask this of me. I'm sorry," Legolas muttered.

He moved quickly from the Houses. He would not witness her death.

Éomer looked to Aragorn, but he had already started to heal Éowyn. He was speaking in soft Elvish, rubbing a liquid onto Éowyn's face. Then Éomer felt a miracle pass through the room. Éowyn breathed deeply and opened her eyes to look at Éomer. He felt his heart leap with joy, but his eyes flickered to Braedia. She had begun to pant and moan softly.

"Sleep Éowyn. The darkness is gone," Aragorn said, brushing wet strands of hair away from Éowyn's face.

She smiled at her brother and Aragorn and then closed her eyes. Éomer watched as her breathing even out and he knew she was in a deep sleep. He looked over to Aragorn who was now looking at Braedia's wounds more carefully.

"Her thigh bone is does not appear to have broken. I need to find the herb for this poison," Aragorn muttered almost to himself.

He had seen many people, dead and alive, on the battlefield today. Anyone with Braedia's injuries should have died. But she was fighting for her life. Her skin was blistering hot to the touch and sweat poured off of her. She was breathing heavily, as if she was going to make very breath count while she still could. Éomer watched as Aragorn ran off and came back with another little bowl. Aragorn turned to Éomer, and Éomer felt even more discouraged. Aragorn looked so exhausted, so forlorn, so much like his actual age of 87.

"I need you to hold her while I apply this. I fear to flip her over entirely," Aragorn said softly.

Éomer moved swiftly and gathered Braedia in his arms. Her forehead rested against his shoulder, allowing Aragorn access to the wound on her shoulder. Her bare skin shone like marble in the dim light, but it was like touching fire to hold her. Aragorn gently worked the paste into her wound, and Braedia whined a little with every touch.

"Braedia, you fool. You beautiful, little fool. Why could you not just stay behind?" Éomer whispered into her hair.

He gently kissed her temple, feeling his own despair. When Legolas had fled, Éomer felt rage. He had thought the elf to be a warrior, not a coward. But now the elf's fear seemed justified in running. Many others had died from much less serious wounds. Braedia was now facing another battle for her life. He bit back tears that threatened to fall, and kissed her temple again. Aragorn finished and wiped his hands with a sigh.

"Have the nurse move her to her own room and stitch and dress these wounds. I need to see to the others," Aragorn said standing.

Éomer called over a healer and relayed the instructions. Éowyn and Braedia were moved to a room of their own and Éowyn was changed into a soft white gown. Éomer sat between the bed and he watched as healers quickly stitched all of the wounds closed and bandaged the rest. He sat there long after the healers had left. He made sure to put new cool cloths on Breadia's neck and forehead in an effort to cool her down. The healers said that she had to sweat out the fever, but Éomer was not convinced. He just wanted her to get better. He had something that he needed to tell her, and he needed her to be alive to say it.

As night fell, a healer came into the room.

"My lord Éomer, I must insist that you get some rest. Healers will keep watch tonight and we will tell you as soon as she wakes," the older woman said, resting her hand on his still armored shoulder.

Éomer shook his head. He wanted to be here when she woke.

"You are no use to anyone half-dead yourself. There is a room next door that you can sleep in," the healer woman said softly.

At the mention of sleep, Éomer felt his body sag. He was very tired, but he could not leave her. But the healer was right. Braedia would wake when she was ready. She was strong. And he could use an hour or two of rest. He stood and left the room. As he reached the doorway, he saw that the elf was back, standing there.

"I will keep watch," Legolas said, staring at Braedia again.

Éomer would have punched him in his jaw for even daring to show his face now after his weakness earlier. But he was tired, and he would rather have someone watch over Braedia than no one. He nodded and allowed himself to be led to a room next door. Éomer wearily removed his armor and lay on the soft bed. Éomer barely had time to sigh before sleep took over his body.

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><p><strong>AN: And here we go.**

**Willow: She may be a beast, but she's a mortal beast. And I swear I'll get to the chapter soon. Maybe after I post this if I don't fall asleep first.**

**rosewriter: I am glad you liked the ending. I almost debated on changing it, but I'm glad I kept it now.**

**Joushou: I'm more than excited for you guys to read what I have planned for our dear Braedia and Lothy. It's only going to be a taste in this part of the series, but I'm going to get much deeper into their relationship (and Braedia's past) in "A Light From the Shadow". I have many, MANY exciting things planned (so much so that I'm re-writing the entire first half of the story).**

**Certh: Have I thanked you enough recently? Because it always feels like it's never enough.**

**CharlotteCookson: If whatever powers rule over this universe align themselves in my favor, I hope that one day I'll be published. But, for now, I'm not leaving FF, so you'll have plenty of my work to read in the meantime. **

**Yayyou: You know, my beta and I briefly debated over whether that bit was going to stay in. I'm not going to say "I told you so", but I was very clear that I wasn't going to take it out without proper evidence that it shouldn't be in.**

**Abi: I've said it once and I'll say it again, I write what I want to read. And I love stories that play with your emotions (which is why I'm a huge A Song of Ice and Fire fan; that series is like masochism). **

**WV: Theoden had his last words with Eowyn while Braedia was saving Eomer's life, just so the timeline is right. And when I read your review my face was sort of like this: o.O. But obviously, you're correct. I could have changed it, just so you were wrong, but the effort just seemed like it was too much. And there is much to look forward to. I hope to put up a preview chapter at the end of this series, just so you can get a taste for the epic-ness that going to come.**

**Bluebonnet: Thank you for your honest critique. I'll try to keep from doing that from now on. As far as The Great Gatsby trailer goes, I'm of two minds. If it isn't obvious by my use of quotes (which there was another little one in this chapter, too), I am a HUGE fan. The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite books of all time. One half of my brain is saying that this is going to be an awesome movie. It's going to be directed by the same guy who did Moulin Rouge and Romeo+Juliet (two movies that I really enjoy), and Leo DiCaprio is playing Gatsby. But the other half of my mind is screaming because I know what Hollywood can do to great books (i.e.- The Hunger Games). So to sum up my general feelings in two words: excited apprehension.**

** deepofnight: I hope that you enjoyed the scene with Eomer in this chapter. I actually like this interaction between Braedia and Eomer more than I like the one between them at Dunharrow, not because of what is said, but because of what isn't said. **

** XBecaX: How is it that you people can find solid chunks of time big enough to read through all of these chapters? I am envious because all of my free time has been eaten by the big monster of adulthood (hence the posting at 4AM).**

**Lystan: I'm pretty sure I meant "limb". I may or may not go back and fix that...it depends on how much it eats away at my brain. **

**glitterballx: I will continue to post as long as there is interest, which it doesn't seem like there is going to be a distinct lack of that any time soon.**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Once again, I am more than humbled by the response I've been getting to this story. I was happy to be getting five or six reviews per chapter, but now that I'm getting above ten for every chapter I post, I just can't tell you how happy that makes me. If it weren't for the stunning response that I've been getting, I'm not sure that I would be working so hard to make this story the best that it can be. That being said, you will have to forgive me if the updates don't come as quick as they have been. I will be working almost every day of the week starting soon and I am doing some major overhauling of the story. It's all for the best, but it takes some time to get just right. But enough delay. Review responses are at the bottom.**

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><p>Legolas sat by Braedia's bedside, whispering to her. He was trying to keep her from falling into darkness and despair. He told her more stories from his childhood, knowing how much she liked to hear those stories. The night had fallen, and the city was quiet. He still whispered on, laughing for the both of them at his own jokes. He could not help the heavy feeling in his chest. He was sure that Braedia was going to die. But even as he held her hand, her skin was growing cooler and her breaths were evening out.<p>

Legolas held her hand in his, stroking it lightly with his thumbs. He had not changed since the battle, and every so often, he would breathe deeply and the smell of salty air would come back. The winds had been strong off the sea, and the fabric held onto the scent tightly.

He sighed and looked down, pausing in his speech for the first time since he had started. He watched the hands that were clasped together, and found that his voice was failing him. He had told her every story that he knew, save a few personal ones. Braedia began to pant a little again, and Legolas's panic to keep her alive overshadowed any fear of losing his own dignity.

"I do not believe I have ever told you how I became an archer," Legolas started softly.

He looked back to Braedia's face, which had become flushed again.

"All little elflings spend much time with their parents as they grow, and that is how they often decide what they wish to do with their lives. My father just happened to be a ruler, which meant he did not have much time for me. But my brothers always made sure I was looked after," Legolas said, chuckling softly at fond memories.

He stopped for a brief moment, gauging her reaction. Braedia had calmed a little, but was still very flushed.

"Thrandir, my eldest brother, was the one that first took me to the archery range when I was not even out of my teens. I knew even then that all I wanted to do was be a warrior and carry one of the great bows.

"When I reached the age where elflings begin to learn their trade, my father made me a bow. It was a child's bow, to be sure. There was hardly any resistance on it, and I did not have to work hard at all to master it. I was so proud, but my father was prouder still. His pride in me was a rare gift, but I did not see it as such at the time.

"As the time passed when I was to reach my majority, I had to have a new bow. This time it was from Thrandir. It was real bow, not the practice one that I had been using for so many years before. I remember being so mad at him, thinking that the bow was a trick, that no one could pull it back. But then he just swept it from my hands and fired three perfect shots into three difficult targets."

Legolas chuckled again, remembering the dose of humility that had been served that day. He looked away and out of the window, remembering how much Thrandir had taught him, in one way or another.

"Thrandir always did know how to remind me that I was just the third son to a blessed king, regardless of how talented or fair I was. Of course, his lessons were always much more subtle in nature than the ones that Arnion taught me."

So lost in his memories he was, Legolas did not notice right away when tears began to run down Braedia's cheeks. It was only when she began to whimper and cry did Legolas turn back to her. He was startled for a moment before he dropped to his knees, unsure of what to do. He looked at her face with wide eyes, watching as she tossed her head from side to side, her mouth forming silent words. Legolas stood and put his ear to her mouth, trying to understand what she was whispering. He only had to understand one word before he ran from the room.

_Éomer. _

Legolas usually refrained from moving too quickly, because he did like to remain slightly discrete. But in this instance, Legolas sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him to Éomer's room. He ran to the bed and violently shook the man awake. Éomer had been deep in a dreamless sleep when he felt someone's shaking him. He woke with a start, thrashing against the hands. When he looked up, he saw that Legolas was standing over him with frantic look on his face.

"Braedia?" Éomer asked roughly.

"She called for you," the elf said.

Before the words had fully left his mouth, Éomer was on his feet and sprinting toward Braedia's bed. When they reached the room, she was turning her head from side to side, panting, and there were tears running from her eyes. Éomer dropped to his knees beside her bed and took her hand in his.

"I'm here, _m__ín __gebléodu_ [my beautiful] Braedia. I'm here," Éomer said pleadingly.

Braedia stopped her tossing and turning, and Éomer relaxed. He reached up and put and hand to her face. His hand was cool against her skin, but she still felt a little cooler than the last time he touched her.

"I won't leave again, I promise," Éomer said, his eyes watering.

He kept to his promise. He sat beside her bed in a chair when he was awake, and knelt beside her bed to sleep. She was slowly getting better, but Éomer could still feel her fevered skin. He spoke softly to her, telling her about his childhood. Legolas had told him that she had responded when he spoke in the Common Tongue, so Éomer rarely spoke Rohirric to her, excepting the occasional endearment.

Éomer kept his vigil faithfully, only leaving when nature called or when water needed to be fetched. He always fetched the water himself because the servants took much too long to complete the task. As the sun began to rise, Éomer had begun to notice strange behavior among the servants. They whispered about Braedia behind her back, and Éomer did not doubt that they whispered about him too. His uncle's body had been recovered found, crushed by his horse, which made Éomer king now. He knew that it wasn't proper for him to lay on the bedside of a servant to his sister, but he didn't care. He needed to be here. Legolas always said that Braedia moaned when Éomer wasn't there, and he would not cause her more pain.

At midday, the day after the battle, an unexpected visitor came to Braedia's ward. He stood at the door, watching at the new king of Rohan gently washed the servant girl's face. He had been told that she was here, but he was still in disbelief. The man walked over to Éomer once he had sat back down in a chair and watched Braedia sleep over his shoulder. She had changed very little since she had left. She had been dressed in a soft white gown and was lying peacefully with her black curls as a halo. Éomer did not notice the man's presence until the man spoke.

"She always was reckless, even when she served my father. She never thought about anyone except the people she loved. She would have gone to the ends of the world if my father asked her to. But he did not see her loyalty," Faramir said softly.

Éomer started violently and stood to face this man.

"And who was your father? The Steward?" Éomer asked heatedly.

This man had not been here before, and if he had been sent to banish Braedia again, Éomer would kill him.

"Yes, but Lord Denethor has passed. I am Faramir, the new Steward of Gondor," Faramir said with a short bow.

The movement still pained him from his injuries, but it was respectful to bow to a king.

"Have you come to reinforce her banishment? Can you not see that she is dying?" Éomer said, his hands balling into fists.

"Banish her? Of course not, my lord. I never wanted her banished in the first place," Faramir said, shocked by the man's anger with him.

Surely Braedia would have said something about him to the people she lived with. He had met this man's sister, Éowyn, and they had discussed how Braedia came to be in the lady's service.

"Faramir, you said?" Éomer asked. The name struck something in his mind, but his head was too full of concern for Braedia to really be able to place the name effectively.

"Perhaps Braedia spoke of my brother, Boromir," Faramir suggested.

Éomer then was able to place the man's name. Faramir was Boromir's brother, and had been a good friend to Braedia when she served in the Steward's household. Éomer nodded and introduced himself.

"I'm glad to see that Braedia has found a good friend in you," Faramir said as Éomer sat down.

"It was hard not to like her. I first met her out in the Wilds, you know," Éomer said with a little laugh.

Faramir looked at him strangely. Braedia in the Wilds? Faramir had known that Braedia was strong, but never thought that she would go to the Wilds to survive.

"Please, if you wish, tell me more about her time with you in Rohan. Lady Éowyn was still very distraught over the whole matter," Faramir said.

Éowyn had woken at dawn and Faramir had found her sitting in a courtyard, crying. She felt immeasurable guilt over Braedia's current state, for if she had only gone back to Edoras as she had been bidden, Braedia would not be dying. Faramir had helped to ease her guilt as best as he could and, once she had been soothed, Faramir went off to find his old friend for himself. He pulled another chair next to Éomer and sat down stiffly.

"I was on a patrol in the foothills of the mountains. I had sent out scouting parties to search for bands of Orcs. One of my parties came back, and they had this strange person with them. When she entered my tent, I was convinced we had found a deserter or a traitor. She walked like a man, but she was smaller than any man I had ever seen. She talked in a voice like a man's. It had my men convinced at least. She wanted to speak to me without lowering her hood, which I could not have," Éomer said, chuckling slightly at the memory.

He looked at Braedia's face as he recalled the first time he had ever seen her.

"Her eyes were what struck me the most. Her hair was matted, and her clothes were dirty, but she had beautiful, clear eyes. I knew she was Gondorian from that first moment. No one in our land had eyes like that. But as time went on, I found that she was distantly of Rohan as well. She speaks excellent Rohirric, you know," Éomer said, almost to himself.

Faramir nodded, but Éomer did not see. His eyes were still on Braedia's face. He was wearing a distant, sad smile.

"I remember the first time I tried to get her on a horse. When I told her to get on, she looked like I had asked her to murder her first-born son," Éomer said with a little laugh.

Faramir also chuckled, remembering her aversion to horses.

"But she rides perfectly now. Narmírë, her horse, was perfect for her, and they bonded so well. She learned to shoot from horseback in only three days. I watched her blind a Mûmak during the battle," Éomer said, his heart swelling with pride.

The smile she gave him after the Mûmak went down played behind his eyes as he closed them. Even from under her helmet, he could see the fire in her eyes. She was so beautiful like that.

"After she came to Edoras, Lady Éowyn told me of how you began to give her lessons," Faramir said, trying to get Éomer to talk more about her time at the capital.

"Yes. She was a quick study, but it took some time for me to let her ride without me holding the lead," Éomer said, shaking his head at his own over-protective streak.

"Is that when you fell in love with her?" Faramir asked suddenly.

He had been watching Éomer's eyes and how he looked at Braedia. He had seen that look before in a man's eyes, and it had been from Boromir. Éomer looked up at Faramir suddenly and sighed. He looked back at Braedia. He brushed a piece of hair that had fallen into her face away. His fingers lingered on her skin, and their skin temperatures were about the same.

"It is hard not to love her, would you not say? Any man in his right mind should be falling at her feet to do her bidding, just because she is beautiful beyond compare," Éomer muttered with a little chuckle.

"And what does that make you, my lord?" Faramir asked, honestly curious.

Éomer smirked, but it was a sad little smirk. "A fool. Because only a fool would not gladly accept her heart when she was so willing to give it away. And only a fool would lose his courage when all that she asked of him was three little words that would have saved her life," Éomer said, biting back tears again.

He had felt so guilty, more guilty than anyone else who had been to Braedia's bedside. He should have tied her to a guard and ordered her back to Edoras. He should never have let her go to battle. But he all but encouraged her to ride with them. He should have told Théoden of her intentions, and then he could have banned her from riding in. Faramir chuckled lightly and Éomer's gaze snapped to him angrily.

"Do not blame yourself for her stubbornness. Short of killing her, you could not have prevented her from riding to defend Minas Tirith. It is her home, and she would have given her life to defend it," Faramir said, looking at his childhood companion fondly.

"She nearly did," Éomer said, rubbing his thumb on her hand again.

"Lord Aragorn is going to call a meeting soon. He is planning something, and he wants you in attendance," Faramir said, rising from the chair. Éomer looked up at him.

"When?" Éomer asked.

"In a few hours. You should bathe and change. It would do you good," Faramir said, placing his hand on Éomer's shoulder.

His heart went out to the man; Braedia had captured his heart just as easily as she had captured Boromir's. Both were honorable men and he was glad that she had found someone that loved her so deeply. Éomer nodded vaguely, but Faramir left it alone.

"She will not be alone, I promise," Faramir said softly.

Éomer nodded, rising from his chair. "I could use a bath. I wouldn't want to smell like death when she wakes," Éomer said trying to joke.

Faramir laughed at the feeble attempt, leading the man away from the room. Éomer dressed in his armor, the only clothing that he had. Aragorn's meeting could not have gone any worse. Éomer had been ready for anything. Trying to retake Osgiliath. Walking into Mordor and demanding a treaty be drawn. Anything, except a direct attack on the stronghold of evil itself. Éomer had sworn loyalty to Aragorn, or else he would have taken his men and gone home.

When the meeting concluded, it was agreed that all of the forces were to be gathered and the march would start at dawn. It would take them a week to reach the Black Gate. Éomer sent word through Gamling to muster every able-bodied rider and horse. After the particulars had been sorted, Éomer's head ached. He had just lost so many men, and now this mad campaign, this mass suicide, seemed almost more than he could ask of the brave Eorlingas that had answered the call. And, beyond the frightening aspects of marching right into the hands of monsters, Éomer could not shake his terror from Braedia's life. He did not want to leave for battle without seeing her awake, but he knew he could not delay. His only option was to sit at her bedside until it came time to depart. He could only pray that the Valar would see fit to grant him one last good-bye before he went to his doom.

Éomer went back to his quarters and removed his armor. It would need to be repaired slightly before battle, but his captains would take care of that. Once he was only dressed in his tunic and leggings, he went back to the healing ward. His thoughts were muddied with worry, which allowed and whispered about his inappropriate attire fade into the background. Éomer entered the room where Braedia was, but, as Éomer looked to the bed, he nearly fell over. The bed was empty. Braedia was gone.

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><p><strong>AN: Dun dun DUNN! Where did she go? You'll just have to wait to find out. I am in a bit of a rush. So I'm going to be doing the review responses later. So just check back later tonight for them. I didn't forget; I just want you guys to have something today.**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: So this is probably the longest chapter that I've written, also one of the hardest to revise. I wanted this to be perfect and, after a little debating, I'm pretty satisfied. I hope you guys like this chapter, because it's slowly becoming my favorite. The only music suggestion I can make for this chapter is "The Grace of Undomniel" from the The Return of the King Soundtrack. You can start at the beginning with the music. Review responses are at the bottom.**

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><p>I was alone in the dark. My body felt weightless, but I could still feel the pain radiating from my legs and shoulder. My body was burning. I kept asking for death, because it would be so much simpler than trying to fight this burning.<p>

"Braedia," I heard a voice calling.

I couldn't place the voice, but it sounded slightly, distantly familiar. I tried to find the source in all of the darkness, but I couldn't see anything. Then suddenly, I was standing, looking down at my own body. I was in quite a state, but I felt relief from the pain.

"Braedia, _aewig_ [my little bird]," the voice came again.

I started and looked around; only one person ever called me that name. I gasped as I turned to face a man I hadn't seen in many years.

"Ada," I breathed, tears coming to my eyes.

I ran to embrace him, but he took a step back before I could touch him. I was confused, and that confusion only increased as I saw the expression of sadness on his face.

"You shouldn't be here," he said softly.

I shook my head, trying to figure out his meaning.

"The Valar work in mysterious ways, my daughter. It is best not to question them," he said, chuckling a bit.

I looked back at him, allowing a little smile to dance across my face.

"I have much to share with you. Shall we sit?" he said, motioning behind him.

I saw that a stone bench had appeared from nothing, and I nodded. We walked to the bench and sat down side by side, but I was aware that he was very careful not to touch me. Part of me was still amazed that he was even here, but most of my mind wondered over his strange behavior.

"Where do I begin? I have been burdened with much knowledge, all of which you would benefit from knowing. Perhaps I should explain how I am able to come to you," my father said, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

I stayed silent, letting him gather his thoughts. I was just so grateful to see him after so long.

"Did you mother ever tell you how her family came to Gondor?" Ada asked, turning to look at me at last.

His eyes were the traditional grey of Gondor, lacking the green tint I had. I shook my head silently.

"You great-grandmother was widowed at an early age, her husband falling victim to the Wildmen that roam the Westfold. Because he was slain so soon into their marriage, they had not had the chance to conceive an heir," Ada began.

My brow furrowed in confusion. If my great-grandmother and great-grandfather never had children, how did I exist?

"One day, your great-grandmother took in an injured traveler, a man who dressed in black and grey, and spoke near perfect Sindarin. A man similar to another that you know very well," Ada said, looking at me expectantly.

My eyes went wide and I gasped a little in realization.

"A Dúnadan Ranger," I whispered.

My father was describing Aragorn almost perfectly, and he was the chieftain, so it only stood to reason that his Rangers were similar to him, at least in dress and manner.

"Your great-grandmother healed him, and the two lived together for a time. Their home was on the outer edges of her village, so the arrangement remained a secret. A widow and a stranger living together when they were not married was just as scandalous then as now. It only became worse when it came to light that she was with child," Ada continued.

I blushed, feeling the embarrassment that my ancestor must have experienced.

"The Ranger was not unkind, and he helped to bring her to his family here in Minas Tirith. He had to return to his company in the north, but once your grandfather was born, he tried to be part of his life as much as he could. The Ranger's family helped take care of them, even teaching your great-grandmother the Common Tongue. That, of course, did not stop her from passing her native tongue on to her son," Ada said, speaking of my mother's father fondly.

"The Eorlingas are very proud of their heritage," I said, thinking of Éomer and his pride.

Ada chuckled a little, but did not respond and was silent for another moment.

"That is how Naneth learned Rohirric, isn't it? Grandfather taught her?" I asked, trying to encourage more talk.

Ada nodded with a smile. He looked at me, almost expectantly, as if he was waiting for me to continue. I looked into my lap, thinking over what he had said. If my great-grandfather, by blood, was one of the Rangers of the North, that would mean I had Dúndedain blood in me after all. But, that blood had been thinned over three generations, and shouldn't be strong enough to induce the sort of traits that were so famous among them.

"Do you remember what I did, _aewig_? What my role was for Gondor?" Ada asked.

"You were second to a captain. You were stationed in Ithilien," I said slowly, remembering the long absences with a little pain.

"Braedia, it is time you knew. I was no mere soldier. I was a Ranger. And yes, there are those among the ranks that cannot trace their lineage back to the traditional ends. But I can, with most certainty, say that I am of Númenórean descent," Ada said slowly.

I looked to my father, more than surprised. Now that this was revealed to me, aspects of my life made more sense. The dreams and natural proficiency for Sindarin were chief among them, but other things like my slightly enhanced sense and endurance seemed to more logical now. And my father's appearance here now also seemed to fit. Ada smiled and I saw him begin to reach for my hand, but then stopped and his face grew sad again.

"Braedia, I have been sent here with a purpose. The Valar have seen your bond with this Éomer," Ada said.

I blushed a little, feeling a little embarrassed by my actions now. Ada laughed, and my heart soared at the sound. It had been so long since I had heard it.

"Do not fear my judgment, _aewig_. He is a good man," Ada said, still chuckling a little.

I smiled at his approval.

"But Éomer's part in The Music of Ainur was sung long before he was born. His fate lies with another woman," Ada said, suddenly very serious.

My smile slid off my face like water, and my heart clenched with anxiety.

"It will not be impossible for you to gain the favor of the Valar, but there are many things that you must face in order to earn the right to live your life at his side," he continued

"Name it and it shall be done," I answered without having to think about it. I would do anything to be with Éomer.

Ada gave me a look that showed he feared that I would say that. "Firstly, you were gravely injured during the battle. You were poisoned, and you will need to heal once that has left your system," Ada said.

For a moment, the burning I had all but forgotten came back, and I whimpered in pain. Ada looked at me sympathetically and the pain ebbed. It didn't go away entirely, but enough for me to focus on the words Ada was saying.

"You will have to find a way to convince Éomer's people that you are worthy to rule. Éomer is king, and if you succeed, you could be his queen. But the men you have to persuade will be even more stubborn than you," Ada said, teasing me gently.

I smiled at his teasing, but my heart sank at his tidings. I had not thought of that very much when I chose to give Éomer my heart, but admittedly, there had been many other things on my mind.

"And you will have to face the woman that fate had intended for Éomer," Ada said.

My gaze snapped to him. His tone implied that the last hurdle would be the greatest, though I doubted any woman that knew of my position and feelings would stand in my way.

"Who is she?" I asked softly.

"You will learn in time," Ada said.

"You have much knowledge, but you do not know whom I will have to face in order to win Éomer's heart?" I asked, confused. It felt strange that he would withhold this when he had been so open with everything else.

"I know, but it would be unfair of me to reveal this to you before you are ready," Ada said, his voice growing sad again.

I nodded vaguely, looking away into the darkness. The burning pain was coming back, and I wanted to rub it away. But, then my heart began to ache as images started to flood my mind. I vaguely knew of the women of the Rohirric court, and an image of each woman in Éomer's arms, wearing the mantle of the queen flashed before my eyes, each bringing more tears to my eyes. But then my mind brought back the old dream of Éomer's wedding day. I clutched my torso and bent forward under the weight of my despair. Ada stood and looked down at me. I looked up, trying to find answers in his sympathetic gaze.

"You do have the opportunity to be free of this pain and this burden," Ada said.

He extended his hand to me with an impassive expression. I looked at him, confused yet again.

"Come home to me and your mother. If you take my hand, you will be free," he said.

I felt surprised, for death could not be that simple. Could as be as selfish as he was suggesting I could be? Could I just leave everyone and everything I loved behind? What of Éowyn? Narmírë? Legolas? What would my death do to Éomer? I knew what it meant to lose someone that I loved. Could Éomer handle that burden?

But, as I thought of him, I felt something change in me. It felt as if there were arms around me, holding me in a warm, comforting embrace. I took a deep breath, and a familiar scent washed over me: salt air from the river of my childhood mixed with baking grass, honey, and horses. I looked up at my father, a new light in my eyes.

"What you ask of me would require that I believe the pain I am feeling now is too much to bear in comparison to the joy that a lifetime at Éomer's side. While I do admit that it would selfish to leave everything behind in order to be free of the pain, it would be even more selfish of me to fight for my own happiness and the happiness of all of those around me," I said strongly.

I stood, facing my father with my chin high.

"And if I learned anything from you, Ada, it was how to be very, _very_ selfish," I said, making sure my words came out clearly through my shaky voice.

I expected Ada to be disappointed, but his face broke out into a grin.

"And I could not be more proud of you, my daughter. I wish you strength, and I hope you will have many years of happiness," Ada said.

I mirrored his smile and Ada took a step away.

"I'll give your mother your love. I hope not to see you for quite some time," Ada said.

I laughed at his dry wit, but it was cut short as the pain came back to my body, as if a Mûmak was sitting on my chest. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt like they were being held shut. I felt like I was made of stone, and I had been dropped from the highest window of the White Tower, and I was falling down, down.

I woke with a start as I felt like I crashed into a bed. I was hearing different voices now, ones that I could place right away. It was Éomer, and he seemed to be arguing with someone. But that someone was losing the battle. I couldn't quite understand the words, but the feelings of outrage were clear in Éomer's voice. I wanted to move, to soothe him, but my limbs were like stone. I wanted to call out, but my voice wouldn't come to me.

"…no right to move her like that," Éomer was saying.

"The traditions of Rohan are different than those of Gondor. To them, she is only a servant and she has been lingering too long in the noble's ward. They moved her to free up the bed for someone of a higher rank," the someone was saying.

I could place the voice now. It was Faramir. I groaned a little and tried to move my head. It moved slightly, but the pain was too much and I stopped.

"I want her moved back, now. She is my lady, and deserves the best room that this city can offer," Éomer said, his volume hiding my noise.

I couldn't help the little soar of my heart as I heard him declare me his lady, but it was stilled when I tried to open my eyes. The light was bright, even in the little crack I had created. I winced and groaned again. This time, my noises were heard by those around me. There was a flurry of movement, and I heard a heavy body drop to his knees near me.

"Braedia?" I heard Éomer ask.

A warm hand took mine and raised it to warm lips. I moved my head again, and I was able to turn it toward his voice. There was a gasp of surprise, and I heard a voice shouting for Aragorn nearby.

"Éomer," I groaned, surprising myself with how hard it was to speak.

I wanted to open my eyes, to see his face, but the light was so bright after the darkness. A hand went to my face, but I knew it wasn't Éomer's. His hands were still clutching mine. This hand was rough, so I knew it wasn't Legolas.

"_Edro i chent lîn_ [Open your eyes]," the voice whispered. Aragorn.

I tried but hissed as the light burned my eyes again.

"Dim the light," Aragorn ordered.

I saw that the red glow behind my eyelids faded and I cracked my eyes again. The room was blurry, but even with that impairment, I knew where I was. It was easy to recognize the smell now that my senses were coming back: pine smoke and salty air. The healers burned pine to help encourage the wounded to heal, a practice I always found to be foolish. I knew that I must have been originally placed in one of the luxurious rooms near the citadel that nobles often used when they were in need of healing. More than likely, I had been moved down toward the servants' quarters and into one of the smaller, more functional rooms that servants were often healed in. There was no need for a sitting room when servants were here no longer than absolutely necessary.

But I was brought from my though as my body hurt, and I could feel the burn from my shoulder and legs, but I felt weak in addition to that. I looked around, the mere motion of my eyes exhausting. Aragorn was kneeling near me, but Éomer was just as close, clutching my hand in both of his. Faramir was standing near the door.

"Legolas. Éowyn," I panted, intending the names to be questions, but my voice was too weak for that inflection.

"Safe, and relatively unharmed. The elf suffered no wounds. Éowyn has a broken arm," Éomer said, jumping at the sound of my whisper.

I tried to nod, but I just closed my eyes, exhausted.

"Braedia, stay awake. I need you to look at me," Aragorn said, his voice soft but commanding.

I opened my eyes with a little groan. I looked up at Aragorn, fighting to keep my eyelids open.

"What do you feel?" Aragorn said.

I whined, unable to find the words that would accurately describe the pain. Éomer raised my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

"Can you move?" Aragorn asked.

I tried to shake my head, but the motion was even more tiring that looking around. I fought off the urge to faint, swallowing hard. Aragorn nodded to Éomer and stood.

"We're going to move you to a more permanent room. You have passed the worst of poison, but now your wounds will need to heal," Aragorn explained.

I felt the blanket being removed from my body, and I shivered from the slightly chill. But, very soon after that, arms were slipped under my shoulders and legs and I was lifted from the bed. I let my head rest against Éomer's shoulder, fighting not to fall asleep. It helped that my heart was beating wildly at Éomer's touch, but I fought hard to stay awake.

"I'm sorry, Éomer," I muttered softly, feeling the darkness approaching again.

I remembered what my father had told me, about Éomer being fated for another woman. It felt right to apologize for all of the hassle I would more than likely cause him.

"Braedia, do not dare utter those words again. I owe you my life. You will never again apologize for anything," Éomer said sternly.

I flinched a little at his rebuking, but I looked up at him as best as I could. He looked like he had not slept very well in some time. But, even then, he was extraordinarily handsome. I flexed my hand, and took hold of one of the edges of his chest plate. The leather was warm and comforting. I would have fallen asleep, but Aragorn kept reminding me to stay awake, if only for another moment.

"Éomer, can I ask you something?" I whispered, trying to conserve my energy by lowering my voice.

"Anything, Braedia," Éomer said, a little desperate.

I swallowed, feeling the weight of my exhaustion hanging over my head. Aragorn turned, and Éomer followed. I looked around, briefly distracted. I had been brought to one of the guest chambers in the White Tower, one of the better suites. There was a full window, and it let in the light from the midday. The breeze brought in the smell of the river with the light, but I did not get many more details before I was set down on the bed. I clung to Éomer, pulling him down with me. He knelt, allowing me to clutch at him.

"Will you say it now?" I whispered, starting to feel the darkness at the edges of my vision.

I wouldn't be able to fight off sleep for much longer. Éomer's face was confused for a moment, before his cheeks flushed and he leaned down to put his forehead to mine.

"I know what you ask of me, and know that I feel it. But I have many more words that I wish to say other than the three you wish to hear," Éomer whispered back.

I swallowed a little, fighting against the darkness with everything in me.

"Please. I do not know if I will awaken again," I whimpered urgently, my grip starting to slacken on his chest plate. The feelings of my impending doom hung over me as the pain only grew stronger.

Éomer took my face in his hands and kissed my forehead.

"Do not speak like that. You have passed the worst of your poison, and you will live to hear me say the words," Éomer said, growing more agitated.

"Éomer, I love you," I whispered, falling under the black for just a moment.

But I was brought back as a cool cloth was pressed to my forehead. Éomer wiped my face, and looked at me, almost a little exasperated.

"Please," I begged, feeling a tear leak from my eye. I needed to hear it, just so I knew that any fight that I would have to face would be worth it.

Éomer looked into my eyes, debating with himself. I blinked long and swallowed hard, fighting against the pull of sleep.

"Braedia, I do. I do love you, very much. Now rest now knowing that you are loved," Éomer said, sounding a little irritated, but mostly sincere.

I closed my eyes and smiled, overjoyed at the words. As soon as my eyes were closed, the darkness engulfed me and dragged me into a healing sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: So sorry for the lack of responses in the last chapter. I have them, and I may or may not put them up (if I have time; there was just so many). But these are the responses to the review for Chapter 34.**

**Charlotte: But cliffhangers are so much fun. I get sort of a twisted enjoyment in knowing that I get to inflict a tiny bit of torture on you for a couple days.**

**Lystan: Just my face? What about my brain, where all of this comes from? I kid, I kid. And I could never forget about Faramir, well, at least not for very long. **

**CrocScale: I'm glad that you liked that conversation. It was A LOT different in the original version (right, Certh? lol) and I was a little nervous about changing it. But your comment makes me happy that I did.**

**brandi: I hope this answered the question of her heritage. People have been begging, and I wasn't going to get into it at all, but I just had to indulge ya'll before you came after me in angry mob form.**

**Bluebonnet: Thank you. I accept that title with as much grace as I can. **

**x0Skay0x: I'm glad that I could be of service.**

**Willow: You DO remember that there is going to be a sequel, right? And that there are 10 more chapters (HOLY CRAP 10 CHAPTERS!) left to go? I couldn't kill our Braedia off so soon.**

**WV: Eh, not that much conflict. And I'm glad you shared your theories with me. Always good for a laugh whenever I get sad.**

**shereelouise60: I love this. People are always of two camps about cliffhangers: they either love them, or they hate them. And I love all sides, especially when I know exactly what it going to happen.**

**Venetiangirl92: I'm just as much of a hopeless romantic as the next girl, but it's just way too much fun torturing my characters to just let them get away without some heartbreak in the process. I just love playing God too much.**

**EarthMama: I will be writing both a Boromir/Braedia story and a Legolas/OFC (the wife I keep mentioning) as soon as I can find time to sit down and do it. They are both planned out, but I just need to put fingers to keys and write.**

**Certh: I know you didn't review, but we have been having our...differences shall we say, in our emails. Is this version any better? I got a second opinion on the topic we talked about, and I decided that you were right (as always). I'm just too stubborn for my own good :)**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: So this is officially the longest chapter I've written for this story. Over 4,000 words. You are welcome. And I would highly recommend "Breath of Life" from The Two Towers Soundtrack as your music of choice for this chapter. This one is long, so you'll have to repeat it once, but it still really fits.**

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><p>When I next came to, I was aware of someone calling my name. I felt warm and comfortable for the first time in ages, so I didn't want to wake up quite yet. I groaned and tried to roll over, like I would have if it had been my mother trying to wake me when I was a child. But then the pain shot through my leg and I gasped.<p>

The voice, one that I now recognized as Éomer's became very alarmed, causing my eyes to shoot open. He was standing over me, looking every bit as concerned as his voice had indicated. I moved back to my original position on my back with a sigh. I felt much more awake, and a little stronger. I was still in pain, but it was more manageable now, to the point where the fear of vomiting from the pain had passed. I gave a little stretch and an innocent smile, to which Éomer responded with a chastising look. He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at me.

It gave me a moment to look around, to get my bearings. The light was gone, and the air around us was dark. I could see that I had a window that face northeast, and there were stars in the sky. I looked at Éomer questioningly. He gave a sigh before answering.

"It has only been two nights since the battle ended. You were asleep for most of that time," Éomer explained.

I nodded a little, but looked around again. I vaguely knew where I was, Minas Tirith, but this part of the city was unfamiliar to me. This was a little more than disconcerting because I had been a chambermaid, and I should have known every room in the Steward's house.

"We are in the House of the King. Aragorn has you in one of the guest chambers, much to the chagrin of the Healers," Éomer said, reading my expression as if they were mere words on the page.

I smirked and chuckled, and Éomer joined me. He gently leaned down and pushed a piece of my hair from my face, and his hand lingered against my cheek. I leaned into the touch, a little hum of contentment escaping my throat. A smile danced around Éomer's handsome face, but there was something about it that struck me as odd. I wanted to sit up, to hold him, but the pain and weakness wouldn't allow it. I merely sufficed my need to touch him by putting one of my hands on top of the one that rested against my face.

We sat there for a long moment, just locked in each other's gaze, not saying anything. I didn't need to hear him say anything ever again, because he had already said the words that I had longed for so desperately. But suddenly, my stomach decided to ruin our blissful silence with a large growl.

I blushed and looked away, embarrassed, but Éomer gave a hearty laugh. He stood up and went to the little table a few steps away. I saw that there was a small wooden tumbler of some steamy liquid that he took up and brought over to me. He looked at me, a silent request for my permission. I nodded and Éomer slipped an arm under my shoulders and helped me to sit up, resting against his chest. He still wore his armor, but the feel of the leather wasn't uncomfortable.

I took a deep breath, and let out a satisfied sigh. The tumbler was full of chicken broth, a favorite of mine when I was ill as a child. Éomer helped me to take gentle sips of the warm liquid. It flowed into my empty stomach, leaving a warm patch in my lower belly. But the majority of my warmth was coming from the places where I was touching Éomer. I didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin this moment.

After I finished my meal, Éomer set the tumbler on the bedside table, but continued to hold me in silence. The night was dark, but I could hear the night creatures singing their songs over the soft sounds of the city that floated from below. Éomer gently kissed my hair, so soft that I almost missed it. I smiled again. I could forget that this city had been under attack not a week past. I could forget that the war was not over yet. I could forget everything except the man that held me in his arms. But the Valar were not as kind as all of that.

In the middle of our silence, there was a knock on the door. We both looked to find that Gamling was standing in the doorway, a sad look on his face.

"Sire, the men need you," he said softly. I looked up at Éomer, a little confused.

I knew that Théoden had passed, but I didn't realize that Éomer would have to assume royal duties so soon. Were we going home? Éomer's face had darkened, an expression that didn't really suit him. He looked to me, an apologetic look replacing the dark scowl. He kissed my forehead tenderly before helping me back to my original position. I was about to question him, but there was another voice from the door, calling his name. We both looked to find that Legolas was standing in the doorway.

My face broke out into a grin, beyond happy to see him. But he was looking at Éomer with the same sad expression as Gamling.

"Will you stay with her?" Éomer asked with an exhausted sigh.

Legolas nodded silently and moved past Gamling. Éomer looked back down to me, and stroked my face once more before walking away. I went to grab his hand to call him back, but he was gone too quickly. I felt a little disheartened, and the feelings of his treatment of me at Helm's Deep came back. He must be tired, for there was no other reason for him to be so distant.

Legolas sat in the chair beside my bed and looked at me. I turned my head and smiled at him, waiting for some sort of indication that he wished to speak. But Legolas just stared at me, his eyes clouded and his face impassive. I went to touch him, but found that he pulled away. My brow furrowed, confused and hurt by his reluctance. I went to speak, but he held up a hand to silence me.

I took a deep breath, smelling again the briny air that washed through the windows on the breeze. I turned my face toward it, taking comfort in the smell that had been present for most of my life.

"Braedia, there is something you must know, something that I know Éomer does not wish to discuss with you," Legolas started, his voice barely above a whisper.

I turned my face to him again, careful to be expressionless. I waited patiently for him to continue, despite the fact that my heart was beginning to beat harder in my chest.

"I have told you briefly of the task that brought Aragorn, Gimli and I to Edoras all those weeks ago, so you will understand why we must do what I am about to tell you," Legolas said, adding yet another preface to his speech.

I nodded, growing more anxious and frustrated with every word.

"Believe me when I say that no one wants to do this, because we all very well know what could happen if we do. But we are loyal to Aragorn, and we will follow him to whatever end," Legolas said, no sounding as if he wasn't trying to convince me, but himself.

I gave a short exhale of frustration. "I had been told that Elves often talk in circles but I have yet to experience it with you, Legolas. Please just make your meaning plain and save me the suspense," I said shortly.

Legolas sighed, looking away from me and out of the window. His gaze was focused, and I almost turned to see what had drawn it, but I knew better. I gave him a stern look, but let him gather his thoughts.

"Aragorn has called upon us to muster our full force. We are to march on the Black Gate to draw out Sauron's forces. A diversion, as it were," Legolas said, speaking slowly and so soft that I almost missed his words.

I almost heard my heart shattering in my ears. My eyes went wide and I felt the tears coming before I could stop them. I was muttering under my breath, though I was not entirely sure which language I was speaking, if I was speaking coherent words at all. I fell back against my pillows, staring at the ceiling. No. This could not be possible. Surely this was just a cruel joke, meant to tease me. But Legolas would not make such a cruel jest, no matter how much it amused him to see me angry. I shook my head, and I could hear Legolas talking. The words only barely reached my ears.

"We have a little less than seven thousand men, what with Prince Imrahil coming from the south with his swan knights. It will not be enough to defeat Mordor, but it should last long enough to give Frodo the chance he needs," he was saying.

I felt the tears slipping from my eyes. I was shaking. My breathing was becoming labored. No. I had only just got them back. I couldn't lose them to another battle. Legolas called my name and moved to the edge of the bed. He gathered me up in his arms and held me to his chest. I clutched at him, occasionally hitting his chest with my fist. I was whispering again, though I couldn't exactly tell what language I was speaking. Legolas's lips brushed my hair and he was trying to comfort me, but it did little good.

After a while, Legolas sighed and pulled away, holding my face in his hands. I was still hysterical, but the actions were rough enough to get my attention.

"Braedia, I know that there is not much hope. But I need you to be strong for us, to have hope for us when we might lose sight of it. Without hope, we have nothing," Legolas said, his voice more intense than I had ever heard.

His thumbs gently rubbed the tears from my cheeks, and his eyes were captivating. He seemed to glow slightly in the moonlight streaming in through the window. I felt myself calming just from the radiant glow that he was giving off. I hiccuped slightly, but the sobs were gone. I watched as Legolas cocked his head to the side, as if he was listening intently for something. I let him listen, unsure of what to do. His fingers were gently moving away from my face and to my jawline, allowing them to be entwined slightly in my hair. He looked back at me, and I almost saw a change in his face. There was a far-off look in his eyes, one that I didn't recognize. His midnight blue eyes seemed clouded, as if someone had stirred the sand at the bottom of their depths.

Legolas tenderly brushed away a piece of my hair, and his fingers ghosted over my skin, causing me to shiver. Another tear escaped against my will, and Legolas gently leaned down and kissed it away. I was startled by the intimacy of the action. He pulled away and looked at me again, but then again, it was almost as if he was looking through me to someone else.

Without speaking a word, I saw Legolas's face coming toward mine. He had a tight grip of my head, so I couldn't move when his lips ever so gently brushed my own. My shock rendered me immobile, which allowed Legolas to kiss me a little harder. I didn't respond, but it felt all wrong, as if I were kissing my brother. It only last a second or two, and could have been just a chaste, courtly kiss, if it weren't for the emotional tenderness that Legolas had displayed before the action. I immediately felt guilty, as if I had betrayed Éomer.

Legolas pulled away and looked at me again, and I saw as the far-off look disappeared, as if the sand were settling in his eyes. His brow furrowed and he released his hold on my face, though he still supported my body in the upright position. I looked at him, just as confused.

"Do you care to explain that?" I asked, my voice a little sharper than I intended.

Legolas stumbled for a moment, as if he were trying to answer the question himself. "I have been asked many time why I do not fall head over heels in love with you, like so many other men have. This seemed like the only way to find out if I truly did have those feelings for you," he said, picking his words carefully.

I didn't exactly trust the answer, because the light of honesty I was used to seeing in his eyes wasn't there. Instead, there was almost a sadness and a confusion, which made me nervous.

I sighed a little, angry about the march and angry over his actions.

Legolas looked at me, a rueful smile on his face. "Come now, Braedia. If it is any consolation, I have proven to myself that my feelings of love for you are only those that a brother would have for a sister," he said with a little chuckle.

I couldn't help myself as I reached up and wiped my lips. "Likewise," I grumbled.

Legolas let out a chuckle. "Do not be angry with me. I only did that because I might die, and I had to prove to myself that I didn't love you. I may die satisfied now, sure of my feelings," he said.

I glared at him a little. . "I am so glad that I have allowed you the privilege of dying satisfied. I, however, will now have to live with that awful memory for the rest of my life, which, if any luck holds, will be significantly longer than yours," I said, my voice laced with poisonous sarcasm.

Instead of making Legolas angry, it only made him laugh more. "Now I understand why Éomer teases you so. It is very amusing to see you so frustrated," Legolas said with a smirk.

We fell into silence at the mention of Éomer. I felt my sorrow coming back, knowing that, while we joked about his leaving for battle, this was a very serious matter and there was real fear here. Unfortunately, I was not allowed time to cope with this before the aforementioned man reappeared. I looked away and covered my face, my sobs coming back.

"Braedia," I heard a voice say.

I looked and saw that Aragorn was with Éomer, and it only made me cry harder. Legolas gently lowered me to lie back down and stood, ready to defend his actions. It did not take long for Éomer to figure out why I was so upset. I heard him advance toward the bed.

"You shouldn't have told her," Éomer said sternly.

"And just left her here, completely unaware of what was happening? I think not." Legolas shot back, sounding angrier than I had ever heard him.

"It was better than causing her distress in her fragile state," Éomer said, raising his voice a little.

"She deserved to know. She would have been the only one who didn't know," Legolas said, his voice even, but definitely, thoroughly angry.

"That was not your decision to make," Éomer said, raising his voice once more.

I looked up at him. Even in the dark, I could see the red tint to his ears. I knew the warning signs well enough to know that this situation had to be dealt with before Éomer went to blows with Legolas.

"Nor was it yours," I said sternly.

Everyone in the room turned to look at me. I tried to sit up, feeling strange to be lying down when everyone else was standing. I at least wanted to be sitting up. Aragorn came to my bedside and tried to coax me back down but I shot him a defiant look. He sighed, defeated and helped me into a sitting position, propped up by a pile of pillows behind me.

"You are mad. All of you. You, for thinking that anything good can come from the slaughter of all of the men that fought to defend this city," I said, looking at Aragorn.

He shrunk back a little under the lash of my voice, but then stood strong against my rebuke.

"You, for thinking that I didn't need to know about this."

I turned to Éomer, but he stood strong, though I could see the flicker of regret in his eyes.

"And you, for thinking that you could just defy Éomer like that. While his decision was a fool-hardy one, the decision to tell me of this mad campaign should have been a mutual one," I said, turning to Legolas.

There was a little sadness and something that I couldn't identify in his eyes, but there was certainly no regret. I sighed and looked at my hands in my lap. They were a little bruised from the battle, but they were healing well.

"When do you leave?" I asked, my voice flat.

"We ride at dawn," Aragorn replied, nearly as soon as the words left my mouth.

I looked out of the window. While we were still well into night, the sky was beginning to lighten. The hour was fast approaching, and I was sure that there was much to do.

"Go and prepare," I said, not looking at any of them.

There was a moment of hesitation, as if they were judging how best to proceed. I didn't look, but I heard a set of heavy footsteps leaving, and I assumed that there was a lighter set that was hidden under it. I could feel Éomer's gaze on the side of my face, and its intensity made me a little warm. I didn't turn yet, waiting for Éomer to speak.

"You understand why I chose not to tell you, at least not in the way the elf did, do you not?" he asked after a long moment of silence.

I sighed and looked back to my lap. "Not entirely, but I do believe that you, at the very least, had a justifiable cause," I said, the words coming out in close to a monotone.

Éomer sighed and sat down in the chair beside me. He took my hand in his without hesitation, and I looked up at him at last. His eyes were shining slightly green in this light, and I had the feeling that he was looking through me again.

"I did not tell you because I knew that you would hate me for agreeing to this, only hours after you finally heard how I feel about you," Éomer said, sounding a little desperate.

"And you are a fool to believe that I could ever hate you," I said, rolling my eyes exasperatedly.

Éomer chuckled a little, but it was an ironic chuckle. "That is a comforting thought. I wish you had told me as such sooner," Éomer teased.

"Forgive me, my lord. The next time that I am dying, I will make sure to tell you everything that you will ever need to know in regards to your own actions and how they reflect on me," I said, turning to mock apology.

Éomer laughed a real laugh this time and I couldn't help but to smile at the sound. But it faded quickly as his face grew sad again. He sighed and looked past me. His thumbs were absently stroking the hand he held, and the touch was comforting. I studied his face, trying to memorize every line while I still had the chance.

"Do not think that I do not know what this could mean. We are fighting with the hope that a Halfling can slip past the gaze of Sauron and destroy the one thing that he seeks above all else. And those of the Mark know what trusting to hope accomplishes," Éomer said, speaking as if I wasn't there.

"Aye, but we are not in the Mark. Gondor has been trusting to hope for many years. We hoped that the lines of Mordor would be held back at Osgiliath, and they had been for many years. We hoped that Minas Tirith would never fall, and it hasn't. And we hoped that a king would come to claim his birthright, and he has all but placed the mantle upon his head. Hope means more Gondorians than the gold beneath the earth," I said, thinking back to all of the whispered prayers I had heard over the course of my lifetime.

Éomer chuckled a little, and found that he was looking at me again. "Gondorians are quite the lofty people," he said.

"And the Eorlingas are proud," I said, taking the same jab at him as he took at me.

Éomer swelled a little, and I could not help but to laugh. Yes, proud to the last.

But our laughter faded as we looked out of the window again. The sky was lighter still, and my heart dropped to my belly. I looked to him, and he sighed.

"I will have to prepare my men soon," he said softly.

"Will there be a party to see you off?" I asked, my voice no louder than him.

"They are already lining the streets," Éomer said, lacking the normal humor that would have accompanied the statement.

I looked to him, and squeezed his hand a little. He looked to me, and his gaze was stern.

"You are not to leave this bed. You are still very wounded and very weak," Éomer said firmly.

I shrank a little, but then my pride reared up, allowing me to sit up straight.

"Why am I not allowed to see you to your death? Were I not wounded, you would not stop me," I snapped back.

"But you are wounded and I will not risk your health for some selfish wish for you to be the last beautiful thing I see," Éomer said, his voice twice as sharp as mine.

I flinched and my eyes went wide. I blinked rapidly, but backed down. He was right, of course. It would be selfish for both of us, him to drag me from my sick bed and me to risk death just to see him. I sighed and he deflated.

"I do not wish our last words to each other to ones of anger," he said lowly.

"Nor do I," I replied in a mirror tone.

We sat in silence for another moment, both unsure what to say or do. I wanted him to hold me again, to feel his lips brushing my hair, to be surrounded by him. But he didn't move, and his face was almost unreadable. There was a noise from the doorway, and we both looked.

Gamling had returned, his face stoic. I looked back to Éomer as he looked back to me. He stood and leaned in. He went to kiss my forehead, but I took his face in my hands. He was surprised, but allowed me to pull his lips to mine. There was a little strain in my shoulder, but I pushed past the pain, relishing the feeling of his lips on mine. Our kiss was short, but the feelings pass between us were not hampered by the lack of time spent connected. When he pulled away, he put his forehead to mine, and stroked my face. I wanted him to say it again, but I didn't want to ruin this moment, one that could be our last.

"When I return, and know that I will return, even if I must cut down every stinking Orc in Middle-earth, you will hear me say those words with every breath, just to make you smile again," Éomer whispered.

I smiled slightly, but I found that it was just a ghost of a smile, a smile that I had not worn since I had first befriended him.

"But I will not let you leave without knowing that I love you, Éomer. I love you, now and always," I whispered back.

Éomer smiled back and began to pull away. But I caught him, my hands still on his cheeks.

"_Gi berio Elbereth, galo elenath dîn erin râd gîn_ [May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life]," I said slowly and clearly.

I kissed his left cheek, then his right cheek, fighting back tears. As I kissed his forehead, I swallowed to prevent the tears from rolling down my face. He pulled away with a little smile. He stood and touched my face once more. He lingered for another moment before sweeping out of the room. Gamling lingered for a moment, and I met his gaze with a wavering smile. He sighed and then gave me a little bow.

"I will return him to you, my lady," he said firmly.

I was about to chastise him for calling me by a title I didn't deserve, but he gave me a significant look. I blushed and nodded my acceptance of the vow, and his acceptance of my relationship with Éomer. Then he swept from the room, following behind his king.

Once I was alone again, I looked out of the window. The gloom of Mordor prevented the full light of the sun from shining on the city, but I knew that it was almost time for the men to leave. I could hear the city waking, and the sounds of the soldiers being readied. I blinked, and the tears I had been holding back so well streamed down my face. I didn't stop them now, for there was no one that needed me to be strong.

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><p><strong>AN: So, you like? I hope so because you're probably not going to get another chapter for a little while. I'm almost done with my big revisions, but I want to get the beginning of "A Light From The Shadow" fixed before I finish posting. I've decided that I'm going to post exclusively on Wednesdays from now on, no matter how much I want to do otherwise. Sorry, but my work schedule is getting crazy, and I need structure. But onto the review responses.**

**Venetiangirl92: I hope this chapter put you a little more at ease as far as Braedia and Eomer go. I'm not giving anything away yet, on the subject of whether it gets better or worse.**

**Certh: Eh? Better or worse? I like this version of the moment between Legolas and Braedia due to...reasons. I think you know what I'm talking about. I decided to keep Gamling in because, the moment was just too good to pass up.**

**Vbelanger: I'm nervous, too. It's a pretty big scene, one that really changes everything. You've got a couple chapters, so no worries just yet.**

**WV: Oh, you and your canon-accurate criticisms (she said with a fond smile). And Eomer was irritated because, in his mind, Braedia should be worried about whether she is going to die, not how he feels about her. Of course, he's a man and wouldn't understand where a woman is coming from on that front, but hey. And this is the only time I have dead people come back to haunt Braedia's dreams, so there should be no more problems.**

**brandi: I'm glad you enjoyed the heritage thing. I was going to wait to explain it more, but suffice it to say that there is still one more piece of her heritage that needs to be explained that I'm not going to get into just yet.**

**EarthMama: No comment (she said with shifty eyes). But suffice it to say that, in the canon, Boromir does come to Edoras, if only briefly, on his way to Rivendell. Just because Braedia didn't see him didn't mean that he wasn't there.**

**Joushou: The Valar are sort of like really powerful spectators, or at least that's the feeling I got when my beta called me out on it. The original scene had a lot more Valar intervention, but I scaled it back because they really don't have a lot of control over fate. So, if you're going to get angry at anything, get angry at fate, not the Valar.**

**Bluebonnet: I see your two words and raise you four words: You're welcome. It isn't over yet.**

**Willow: I swear to God I'm working on your chapter, though I wouldn't necessarily be opposed to seeing the rest of it :)**

**Ashley Dawn: Welcome to the group! I'm glad to have you, no matter how you came to find this story. **

**Lystan: I'm glad you like my kneecaps, because I sure as heck don't (I have bad knees; hereditary, nothing I can do about it, but it is really annoying). And I'm not sure why everyone thinks that, just because Braedia's great-grandfather was a Ranger from the North that she's suddenly related to Aragorn. It's not like every Ranger is related. Maybe distantly, but not enough to be of significance. I like the critical thinking involved, but sorry, no cigar. And I prefer Live Long and Prosper. Or even better: Don't Forget To Be Awesome.**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: Guess what time it is? CHAPTER TIME! I am actually really glad that I've decided to publish once a week. It's giving me a chance to do good revisions and not feel pressured. **

**No music suggestions for this chapter, but I really hope you enjoy it. Review responses are at the bottom. And, even if you don't read all of the responses, at least read the last paragraph. I ask a couple questions that I really do want answers to.**

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><p>I had been moved to a chair by the window, my leg stretched out before me on a settee. A healer had just been in to change the bandages on my legs and shoulder, and the whole process was easier if I was sitting up.<p>

But the view from my window also allowed me to watch as the army moved off across the Pelennor Fields. The massive block of soldiers, some mounted, some not, was a mix of colors. I could easily see the silver flash of the Gondorian plate armor, but the browns and greens of the Rohirrim were just as visible. There were also some soldiers dressed in light blue and silver, the colors of Dol Amroth.

But I pushed past the feelings that the ruling family of the city brought to my mind and tried to find the commanders. Éomer would be riding with Aragorn, or at least he would be very close. But, despite my good eyesight, I could not make out any one person in the crowd moving together.

My heart was heavy, and I sighed, rubbing my chest slightly. There was a knock on the door, and I looked to find Éowyn standing there. I smiled slightly, happy to see her after so long. She came in and pulled one of the comfortable chairs from before the fireplace so that she could sit opposite me.

I saw that she was dressed in a simple gown, most likely one that would only do until one of the many dressmakers of the city could get their hands on her to make her an entirely new wardrobe. As she moved, I saw that her left forearm was wrapped tightly, and I felt guilty. She shouldn't have been moving furniture if she was still healing. Once she sat down, she gave a little satisfied sigh.

"It is good to see you awake, Braedia. For a moment, there was real fear that you would leave us," Éowyn said, his tone as bright as her smile.

I tried to laugh, but my effort fell a little flat. I could still feel the despair in my chest, and I looked back out to the army.

"It is disheartening to see them going," Éowyn said, a little deflated from her earlier talk.

I sighed again; disheartening wasn't exactly the word I would have used to describe the sight of our men marching to their deaths.

"Braedia, do not fear. They will return," Éowyn said, reaching forward to take my hand.

I looked at her, and felt a little encouraged by her smile. I tried again to smile, and it worked a little better, enough so to make her relax.

She sat back and looked out over the city, a clear look of amazement coming over her face. She had most likely never seen a city this big before. I followed her gaze, smiling fondly. The city had woken by now and the occasional sound floated up to us. The call of the street venders, trying to entice the passerby to buy their wares. The barking of the dogs. The distant laugh of children. While I enjoyed the peaceful silence that the wilderness brought, there was nothing like the pulse of a city.

"The people here are very strange," Éowyn said.

I looked at her, curious to know her meaning.

"I took the morning meal in the great hall, and the other ladies were acting oddly. They spoke kindly enough, but it was as if they shared some private joke that kept them very amused," Éowyn said, her own brow furrowing at the memory.

I sighed; it did not take much to think of what could have amused the ladies of the court. As a servant, I was often forgotten about, so much so that secrets were exchanged while I was present, secrets that should never have reached anyone's ears, let alone the ones doing the gossiping.

"Rohan's attitude toward Gondor is much different than Gondor's attitude toward Rohan. There is a general belief that the Eorlingas are a simple people unable to comprehend the complexities of life," I said, choosing each word with care.

"But that is just not true," Éowyn said, clearly not believing me.

"Of course it isn't. I know better than any how untrue that belief is. But most of the ladies of the court have yet to grow past the teenage tendency to gossip. Court life is much more sheltered here than it is in Edoras," I said, trying to sooth her ruffled feathers.

Éowyn huffed a little and looked back out of the window.

"Well, they are good for a laugh. The fashion of this city is just ridiculous. I saw a lady with a three-foot train on her dress," Éowyn said, rolling her eyes.

I laughed with her. Clothing in Rohan served a more practical purpose, what with most of the women, including those of the court, having to do many household jobs. The ladies of Gondor were often idle and never had to worry about cooking or cleaning. A three foot train would be simply impractical in Rohan. We stopped laughing and settled into comfortable silence.

I looked back to the north, and I was still able to see the trailing end of the army. They would be stopping tonight or tomorrow to rest, and perhaps the night before they reached the Black Gate, but they had been traveling almost constantly since their departure earlier that day. Éomer's smile played behind my eyes as I closed them, falling into my familiar worry for the safety of all of those in the battle.

"I also heard another piece of gossip that you might find interesting," Éowyn said, startling me a little.

I looked to her, my gaze a little exasperated. I was never a gossip, the personal lives of this lady and that lord never interesting enough for me to keep track of.

"I heard that Éomer told you that he loved you," Éowyn said slyly.

I blushed and looked away, not expecting that to become gossip.

"From whom did you hear this from?" I asked, trying to de-color my cheeks.

"Faramir. He said that Éomer declared himself the night you were moved," Éowyn said.

I looked up at her and she was smiling slyly. But I met her sly smile with one of my own. Éowyn was always very good about calling anyone of rank by their title, and it was strange for her to refer to Faramir as anything except a lord.

"Just Faramir?" I asked, blatantly ignoring her statement.

It was her turn to flush and look away, obviously caught in her mistake.

"He bid me to call him by his given name," Éowyn said, a little defensively.

"Did he now?" I said, highly amused with her floundering.

Éowyn looked at me sharply, still smiling a little. "Do not change the subject. So did my brother finally admit to his feelings?" Éowyn pushed.

I looked away with another fond smile. I might have been in quite a state that night, but I remembered his declaration with striking clarity.

"Yes. He does love me, very much," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Béma be praised!" Éowyn said, sounding triumphant and relieved at the same time.

I laughed and she quickly joined me. But our laughter was interrupted as there was another knock at the door. We both looked to find Faramir standing there. He was dressed in plain clothes, and he walked with a slight discomfort. My smile faded as I realized that my dream of his fall before the battle had not just been a dream. Well, now all of my dreams had to be considered carefully with my Dúnedain heritage coming to light.

Faramir approached with a smile on his face.

"I am glad to see you, Braedia. It has been too long," Faramir said happily.

I nodded, replacing my smile quickly. "Yes, far too long, my friend," I said, just as happily.

Faramir looked around for another moment, spotting the last chair in the room and dragging it to sit around my settee. I felt strange with my leg displayed the way it was, so I carefully and slowly slid it from its position, taking care to hide the winces of pain that the movement caused.

If Faramir or Éowyn noticed my movement, neither of them said anything, though I highly doubted that Éowyn noticed anything I was doing. Her eyes were simply fixed on Faramir, as if he would drop dead if she looked away. Once he was seated, she clearly realized that she was staring and shook herself before looking back to me. I decided to leave it alone, though I shot her knowing smirk which caused a little color to come to her cheeks.

"So, how are you feeling?" Faramir asked, looking at me with some concern.

I stopped to take stock of my body. My shoulder ached, and my calf was sore, but the strongest pain still came from my thighs, where the deepest wounds were.

"Pain, but it is manageable," I said with a little smile.

"Did no one offer you anything for the pain?" Éowyn asked quickly turning from carefree to concerned.

I gave her a little chastising smile. "Now what kind of warrior would I be if I accepted draughts and elixirs for my battle wounds?" I said, clearly teasing her.

She gave me a stern look, but Faramir just laughed.

"It is good to see that you have changed so little," he said, still chuckling.

I chuckled a little with him, but Éowyn was still not very amused. I decided to move on before she pressed the subject further.

"So, how has your father reacted to my being in the city? Surely he cannot be happy about it," I said lightly.

Faramir's face darkened a little, and I regretted my words a little. His father always was a sore subject for him.

"My father has passed. He really does not have any feelings about you being here," Faramir answered with a sigh.

I nodded and looked away. I felt a little guilty, but I was almost glad that Denethor was gone. He was running Gondor into the ground, and he wouldn't fit Aragorn for control now.

"I guess that makes you Steward," I said softly.

I looked back at Faramir with a neutral gaze, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Yes, it does," Faramir said with a proud little smile.

I smiled too, happy to see he had taken up the mantle with no regrets. We fell into silence again, and I looked back to the north. My gaze wandered through the fields, and I noticed all of the men wandering. I could only imagine what they were doing. But the glance brought back the questions that I had put off.

"What happened with the battle? I imagine that we won, or else I wouldn't be sitting her having a pleasant conversation with any of you," I said, trying to turn the conversation light again.

"Yes, we won. Aragorn arrived with an army of ghosts," Éowyn said, sounding a little excited.

"Ghosts?" I asked skeptically.

"The Men of the Mountain," Faramir said, and I understood completely. We both knew the story of the Oath Breakers.

"Prince Imrahil arrived shortly after Aragorn, his Swan Knights chasing down those that had fled," Faramir said, speaking of his uncle fondly.

I held back the urge to roll my eyes. The Swan Knights were a rather elite fighting force, but they had impeccable timing. Éowyn noticed that my face had gone a little tight, but did not say anything, though her questioning glance was not lost on me.

"Prince Imrahil and Elphir took some of the force on the march, but they left Erchirion and a large portion of the Knights to defend Minas Tirith while her king was absent," Faramir said, his tone unchanged.

My face fell into a scowl for a moment before I remembered myself. If Erchirion was here, that meant that Imrahil's other children must not be far behind. This time, my expression was not lost on Éowyn.

"Is something the matter, Braedia?" she asked, her tone implying that she would not take no for an answer.

I shook myself mentally, and gave her a little smile. "I just have eaten in a while. You know how I get without food," I said, trying to sound light-hearted again.

Éowyn looked hesitant for a moment, but then obviously decided to let it go. "I'll go and send for our lunch to be brought here. Would you like to join us, Faramir?" Éowyn asked, turning to him.

I turned to look as well, and he was giving me a significant look before it slid into his easy smile.

"I would be delighted," he said, genuinely happy.

Éowyn simply beamed before springing to her feet and leaving quickly to find a maid. After she had left, Faramir turned back to me and gave me that stern look again. I looked away, feeling uncomfortable under his inspection.

"I had hoped that you feelings toward my cousins and uncle would have changed over our years apart, but I see that I was wrong," Faramir said, sounding a little more than disappointed.

I sighed, agitated. "I am not the one that has the ill feelings. I never had any fight with any of that family until Lothíriel-"

"That is beyond my point. For everyone's sake, Braedia, please try to be accommodating. Éowyn takes your opinion very seriously, and I do not wish for there to be ill feelings between her and anyone of my family," Faramir said, sounding just as agitated as I was.

I pursed my lips for a moment but then sighed. I understood his point. He obviously cared very deeply for Éowyn, and he did not want there to be strife between them before they could see what developed of this relationship.

"If she behaves, then so will I. I will not allow her to walk all over me again, Faramir," I said, clearly a warning.

Faramir sighed; he had clearly hoped for better things from me. But Éowyn returned and the subject was dropped, at least for now. The look on Faramir's face said that his was clearly not over.

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><p><strong>AN: So, this chapter set a new record for most reviews on a single chapter. 16 reviews! Holy cow! Thank you guys so much. It is still so surreal to realize how much positivity that this story has gotten. I'm humbled and I feel so blessed (and I'm not even that religious). Now I'm going to respond to the reviews before I start tearing up.**

**deepofnight: Well, I hope you will be okay with the way I portray Lothiriel. I love writing her, but for different reasons than I like writing Braedia.**

**Lift the Wings: I'm not going to promise anything. I don't want to ruin it for you.**

**Joushou-Sensei: I see that you have an actual account. I'll keep that in mind. And Legolas and Braedia kissing was supposed to be uncomfortable. But don't hate me too much for it. **

**Charlotte: I'm sorry, but my job is going full time, and Wednesdays are my permanent day off. It gives me time to sit down and do real revisions and make these chapters the best they can be. Quality over quantity. **

**WV: We've had our talk, and I hope you still like me. By the way, I'm promoting you to my Unofficial MS detector. I'm counting on you to make sure that I don't cross that line, because I take pride in making sure that I haven't yet. Don't let me down.**

**Lystan: I know that Karl Urban was in Star Trek. Though, that movie was just full of delicious eye candy...I hope that everyone can bear with me for a couple chapters until they are reunited. It's going to be a beautiful scene, and it's totally worth sticking around through these "boring" chapters. **

**Venetiangirl92: Hopefully the wait wasn't too long. **

**rosewriter: It's okay to travel. I can't because of my job, I really can't. And that's also the reasons I can only post on Wednesdays.**

**Certh: I'll be getting a couple new chapters to you as soon as I can get them typed up. I wrote them in my Moleskine at work, so I have to do a little revising from that version, too.**

**MinNinniach: People have either been in one of two camps over the Braedia/Legolas scene. They either love it or they are cringing from all the weirdness of it. I'm sort of in the former of the two camps, but it's my story and I do what I want.**

**CrocScale: I'm happy that your face was so smile-y. And honestly, Gamling probably looked away to give them so privacy. He's polite like that. **

**brandi: I hope everyone is going to like the additional information I have about Braedia's heritage. I think it's really interesting, but that's just from a trivia standpoint. **

**Willow: I'm probably be able to get back to you with comments by Saturday, if you get the chapter to me on Thursday.**

**Lady of Sign: I'm actually really interested in what chapter has been everyone's favorite so far. Let me know in your next review. It helps me to figure out what you guys like and don't so I can give you more or less of it, respectively.**

**glitterballx: I hope that feeling about Eomer will go away in the next chapter. I actually wrote the little scene from the next chapter before you reviewed, so it was almost like I was reading your mind...or I was just trying to clarify any confusion that I predicted would come up.**

**Kiiimberly: You gave me five reviews so here are five responses. 1) I'm only human, so typos are going to happen. And I'm almost positive that this story didn't have a beta at that point. 2) Yeah, I've been called on the carpet about that. But hopefully you'll be seeing a few characters in the future that aren't so pleased with Braedia. Also, I imagined Braedia walking at a relatively fast pace, like a power walk, until she sees Eomer, and then it's a more natural gait, but confident. Hopefully that clears up that confusion. 3) Tell that to all men. I think that they missed the memo. 4) And my beta wanted me to take that moment out initially. But I fought for it...and I'm not even going to say that I told her so. 5) If you read the author's notes (or you know the canon), you will know who it is. If not, I'll just leave it a mystery for now.**

**Holy crap...that took a lot of space. But I'm happy to do it. Quick thing if you missed in one of the responses: I'm curious to know which chapter has been your favorite so far, and your least favorite, and why you like/dislike them. The why part is what I'm really interested in. It'll help me out a lot in the coming future when I'm making revisions to the story. Also, I've noticed that they story took a HUGE turn away from my original plot, but I'm wondering if anyone would be interested in seeing the alternate chapters. If there's enough demand, I might make a little game for you guys to hunt them down.**


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: So I've come to realize that I am simply too eager to share this story with you not to give you guys more than one chapter a week. So now I'm going to put a new set of publishing rules. There will ALWAYS be a chapter posted on Wednesdays. The second chapter will be a little bit more of a surprise when it comes out. So there's going to be structure and an element of surprise. So everyone should be happy now.**

**Also, I'm going to basically be re-writing a lot of the coming chapters, and I am truly trying to figure out what you guys like and dislike. There have been some good responses pointing to chapters that you guys like, but I'm really REALLY interested in why those chapters are your favorites. Or, said another way, if you want more of something (like more jealous Eomer, or more fluffy kissy-bear-huggy-face time between Brae and Eomer) let me know and I will do my best to give it to you. While I am writing this story for my own amusement, at the end of the day, if you're not happy, I'm not happy. But I can't make you happy unless you tell me what I need to do. **

**As always, review responses are going to be below. Enjoy this chapter. I hope it clears up a lot of the confusion/doubt that ya'll are having.**

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><p>The next morning, I had been roused before the sun had risen by the healers. They carefully moved me and redressed the wounds and gave me a new gown to wear. It was still simple, but it was more than simple shift that I had been wearing. The healers had expressed that they were satisfied with the rate at which I was healing. Now that the poison was out of my system, I was feeling much stronger and the wounds were healing quickly.<p>

As they left, I took one of the clean strips of cloth that they had brought for bandages. I then began to knot and unknot it, just to have something to do with my hands. I had always hated being idle, but I was still under strict orders that I was not to do any unnecessary movement. I had tested the range of my movement, when the healers left. My legs still were weak, and I could not support my own weight, but my shoulder was better.

I watched as the sun began to show itself from behind the clouds of Mordor. The red gloom that I had grown up seeing seemed to be more threatening now than it ever had been. Despite clearly knowing what lurked in the desolate country, I had never before been able to put a face to the threat. But I knew now what an Orc was and how deadly their Uruk-hai brethren could be. I had fought and killed many of them, so I knew it was possible to escape alive. But I had seen so many of my kin fall at the end of their swords and pikes. I had been there when their chief had slain my king.

Tears came to my eyes and I looked to the knotted cloth in my lap. Théoden, the last man I could count as a parental figure in my life, was gone. I let a tear escape as I mourned him once again. Perhaps I would gain my strength so to see where his body rested in the city. Surely they would have placed him apart so to preserve it for the trip back to Edoras, where he would have his proper burial.

But I shook my head, clearing it of thoughts of the dead. I turned my thoughts back to the living, wondering and worrying about the men that marched to the north. What if they were attacked or ambushed, and never made it to the Black Gate? Would Frodo make it to Mount Doom? What would happen if the new kings were killed before they ever had a chance to produce heirs? What would happen to all of us here in Minas Tirith? My stomach clenched with the fear, but I tried to push it aside.

I began to undo the knots, trying to focus all of my attention to their undoing rather than my own possible undoing. As I began to knot the cloth again, there was a knock on the door. I looked and saw that Éowyn was standing at the door with a bundle and a basket in her hands. I smiled and she came to sit in the chair that she had brought over the day before. I tried to smile, but it was just my ghost smile again. Éowyn didn't say anything but gave a sigh.

"I thought you could use something to keep your hands and mind busy. But I see that you beat me to it," Éowyn said, nodding to the cloth in my hands.

I looked down and blushed a little, but she just chuckled. She held out a bundle of black velvet and I took it, unfolding it as I did so. It was unembellished, something that was strange for a garment of such fine quality.

"It is the tunic that was being made for my brother to wear at Aragorn's coronation. But I took it from the tailors before they had a chance to put any embroidery into it," Éowyn explained.

I looked at her with a little smile on my face. She held out a basket and I nodded to the settee, signaling for her to set it down there while I worked out what I wanted to do. I saw that she had a bundle of cloth in her hands as well, but hers was midnight blue. I looked at her questioningly, and she blushed under my gaze.

"For Faramir. It is going to be a surprise," she said softly, running her thumbs over material.

I gave her knowing smile, but she didn't see it because she wasn't looking at me. I decided to let the subject drop. I ran my hands over the tunic, trying to decide what to do. The colors would have to be red, gold, and green, the colors of Rohan. I wanted to have some sort of use of the horses that meant so much to him, but I was no true artist. I settled on some traditional scroll work that I had seen used before and knew how to create quite easily.

Time passed us by quickly. Éowyn and I worked in silence, and I found myself lost in my work. It was easy not to think about anything except the cloth in my hands when I wanted it to be absolutely perfect. Perhaps I was just overdramatizing, but it almost felt as if I would let Éomer down if I so much as got one stitch wrong. Éowyn seemed happy enough not to press me into speech, but she was just as lost in her embroidery as I was.

When the time came to eat, a maid I did not recognize came to deliver the tray. At least Éowyn had the forethought to do such. I would have forgotten about food if only just to keep my mind from being idle. As we ate, I looked out to the northeast, trying to imagine what Éomer was doing. If they did rest last night, they would travel through tonight. Perhaps I would stay awake with him. It felt wrong to sleep when he could not or would not. I closed my eyes briefly, and I tried in vain to reach out to him. Only elves had such bonds, and I certainly was no elf. But the effort seemed to soothe me a little.

When we finished, Éowyn and I went back to our sewing. We worked until the light had died in the sky. She left soon after, thinking that I wanted rest. But I knew that, even if I did lie down, I would get no rest tonight. The healers came to move me, but I declined. They tried to force me, but I was adamant. I did not want to sleep. They left, clearly agitated. I sighed when I was alone, looking to the north again.

I rubbed my heart, feeling the dull ache of worry coming back. I cast my eyes to the sky, seeing the stars blinking to life above me. I wondered vaguely if Éomer was looking up, or was he focused on the road ahead of him. Perhaps he was seeing the stars I was. The small connection gave my some comfort, but not enough to give me peace. I took up my strip of cloth and began to knot it again.

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><p>Éomer sat by the fire. It was the first night they were making camping, having rode through the previous night. He was eating a small bowl of stew. There was hardly any taste to it, though that was not from lack of spices. His mind was elsewhere, not allowing him enough consciousness to taste it. After a few bites, he merely stirred the rest in the bowl, staring into the depths.<p>

He wondered what Braedia was doing. Had she recovered more? The poison would have been removed from her body by now, so she would be getting stronger. Éomer wondered vaguely if she would be strong enough to ride out to him after the battle, if all went as planned. He smiled a little at the thought of seeing her again, when the darkness had been banished from their lands, when he was free to love her as she deserved.

Éomer was so lost in his waking dreams that he did not notice when two people sat near to him. Imrahil and his eldest son, Elphir, sat with the new king of Rohan, watching as he stared into his stew.

"Is the stew not to your liking, my lord?" Imrahil asked.

Éomer jumped and looked up at the pair, his face showing his surprise for a moment before resolving into an impassive expression.

"No, it was quite good. I just find myself without an appetite at the moment," Éomer replied, setting down the bowl and spoon so better to look at them.

Imrahil smirked a little. "Thoughts of the upcoming battle driving away your taste for food?" he offered, his voice suggesting good humor.

Éomer tried to laugh, but there seemed to be a subtle insult under the comment which did not allow his humor to reach his eyes.

"Not exactly," he said, settling on that neutral reply.

"Do not fret, young king. It will all be over soon, and we will be free to return to the finer comforts of Minas Tirith," Imrahil said, a little too casually for Éomer's liking.

There was something in Imrahil's behavior that set Éomer on edge, which he found to be strange. It was not as if he did not like the man; he had proved himself to be loyal to Aragorn, and often offered sound advice. But the mere act of brushing off what could be the most important battle of this war seemed unnerving.

"How did you find the White City, my lord?" Elphir asked.

Éomer looked to the young heir, finding a questioning expression on his face. Éomer recognized the Gondorian features that he had seen so many times in Braedia's face, but the boy's face was tanned and his hair was a brown color, as if he spent much time in the sun by the sea.

"One of my household often spoke of her beauty, but nothing she could have said would have prepared me for the sight I beheld as my company crested the rise before the Pelennor Fields. Even under siege, Minas Tirith is magnificent," Éomer said.

He was fondly recalling the conversation where he had heard Braedia speak of the city of her birth. Nights when he was bound to Meduseld by the winter storms. Nights when he, along with his cousin and sister, would listen, enthralled as Braedia described the towering city and all of misadventures she had inside of it.

"One of your household?" Imrahil questioned, confused.

"My sister's lady-in-waiting was born in Minas Tirith. Braedia, daughter of Deonvan," Éomer said, listening to the way her name rolled off of his tongue. He always enjoyed saying her name, and hearing her say his.

"Braedia, you say?" Elphir nearly choked out.

Éomer was confused by the reaction, but nodded regardless. Elphir looked to his father, but Imrahil was just as confused. Elphir shook his head, not wishing to speak of the whole affair if his father did not know of it.

"You know her?" Éomer pushed, wondering what could cause such a violent reaction.

Elphir sighed, caught. He knew better than to ignore the direct question from one of his superiors. "She had been my sister's chambermaid when we visited the city some years ago. I did not know that she had been elevated to such a position of honor, in such a far kingdom. She seemed set on staying in Minas Tirith until her dying day," Elphir said, clearly dancing around his true meaning.

Éomer was suspicious of his behavior, but did not want to spook him. Perhaps he would pull Elphir aside later to speak privately.

"Well, circumstances arose that forced her to leave. She has family in Rohan," Éomer said, making up a quick lie for her. He hoped that he would not regret it.

While Braedia had spoken often of Minas Tirith and her early childhood when both her father and mother were alive, and she had explained the exact events of her banishment, Éomer knew very little of her courtship with the original heir to the Stewardship.

"Well, it was very generous of you to offer her employment in your household," Imrahil said, beaming at Éomer.

"It was nothing. She has proved herself worthy of the rank time and again. She had become quite invaluable," Éomer said, speaking tenderly of the woman that held his heart.

The three were silent again, but Imrahil looked around, clearly uncomfortable.

"I must check on my men. We will leave you to your stew," Imrahil said, standing.

Éomer nodded, but Elphir did not move.

"Son?" Imrahil said, as if he was trying to rouse the boy.

"Just a moment, Father. I wish to ask Lord Éomer for some advice, if it would not be of trouble," Elphir said, turning to Éomer with a questioning gaze.

Éomer rose and shook his head. Elphir got to his feet as his father retreated.

"Let us take this to somewhere a little more private," Elphir suggested.

Éomer nodded, now completely intrigued by Elphir's behavior. The two walked in silence to the edge of the camp, neither looking at the other. When they reached the make-shift paddock, Éomer leaned on the fence and whistled softly. Firefoot came trotting up, and Éomer stroked his cheek fondly.

"My lord, forgive my frankness, but what exactly do you know of Braedia's past?" Elphir said, getting right to the point.

Éomer looked sharply at him for a moment. "I know enough. I trust her to have revealed what she wished me to know, and I have not pushed her," Éomer said, jumping to defend her.

Elphir sighed and looked away. He could sense that there was a deeper connection than just friendship, and that worried him.

"Is there something I should know?" Éomer pushed, making the question sound more like a demand.

"Braedia is not as innocent as she appears, my lord," Elphir said, recalling the days of his visit with striking clarity.

"That would surprise me greatly. What brings you to say this?" Éomer said, stopping and turning to face Elphir fully.

"She had a secret that my sister discovered, one that I believe led to her taking leave of Minas Tirith," Elphir said, sounding truly concerned.

Éomer relaxed, his fears ebbing. It was only her love of Boromir again.

"I am fully aware of this, and the matter has been settled," Éomer said, turning back to pet Firefoot again.

Elphir looked at Éomer, a little terrified. How did he know of it? But he cleared his face before Éomer could spot the expression.

"As long as you know and have forgiven her, then I can put my heart at ease. You are a great man, and I do not wish for you to be taken advantage of," Elphir said, leaning against the fence as well.

Éomer looked at Elphir sharply. "Taken advantage of?" Éomer questioned.

Now he was truly insulted. Braedia had never been anything except humble and honest, and the suggestion that Braedia would use those around her for her own benefit was utterly ridiculous. Elphir looked back to Éomer, his eyebrows raised. So he didn't know. Éomer straightened up to his full height, dwarfing Elphir.

"Braedia has never pressed any advantage, even when she could have. I would thank you not to make such statements of her character again," Éomer said, his voice low but clearly a threat.

Éomer turned on his heel, walking away fuming, leaving Elphir a little more than stunned. Éomer went back to his tent, and he threw himself down on his cot. He put his arm over his eyes, trying to relax. His mind went back to his memories of Braedia, specifically the night of the feast at Edoras. Éomer fell asleep with the thoughts of the smell of her hair in his nose, the sight of her in her beautiful green gown, and the feel of her lips against his.

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><p><strong>AN: Review response time!**

**rose: I just wrote some killer scenes for the two of them (you can take that literally or proverbially; I'm not going to tell you which). I am actually growing quite fond of Lothy. Bitches are always fun to write, if you'll excuse my foul language.**

**brandi: A few people have gotten a taste for the alternate chapters and I may post them on another site (which I will send you to later if I choose to do this) once I'm done posting here. Just to give you something to tide you over until I can get some stuff for "A Light From The Shadows" revised and beta-d.**

**Joushou: I was actually worried that the pace came to a grinding halt in the last chapter. I'm glad that my fears were unfounded.**

**glitterballx: I could never hate anyone for valid criticisms. I hope this chapter cleared some things up for you.**

**Venetiangirl92: Hope you enjoyed.**

**Willow: My comments should be following this post shortly. I'm feeling really productive today.**

**Lystan: :) Oh you are a clever one. I hope you gobbled this chapter up too.**

**WV: Better or worse with the anxiety in this chapter? I didn't want to go too overboard because then it could just be really REALLY depressing. And I promise that the next chapter, you will be getting an earful (eyeful?) of Lothiriel. And it is probably one of my favorite exchanges in the whole story. It was so much fun to write.**

**Giddy: Thanks for joining us. Oh Lothy is just something else. That is all I'm going to say about it for now.**

**Kiiimberly: Lothiriel and Brae will clash in the coming chapters, but the all out death match for Eomer won't start until "A Light From The Shadows". I have so many awesome scenes planned for them :)**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: So it's Wednesday again and that means it's time for another chapter! I really enjoy this chapter, and I hope you do, too. I look forward to all of the feedback. If you haven't done so already, I would still like to hear what everyone likes, dislikes, would like to see more of, less of, etc as far as the story goes. I'm in the middle of revisions, and all opinions are welcome and taken into account. No music suggestion for this chapter, though I'm not entirely sure you need one. As always, review responses are at the bottom.**

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><p>Three days after the men had marched, Faramir and I sat by my window. I was working on Éomer's tunic again, and Faramir was just looking out the window, allowing me the silence I appreciated. Faramir was always in tune with the wants of those around him, and he must have sensed that I was in no mood for conversation today.<p>

I had fallen asleep in my chair last night, and terrifying dreams had come to me. They were all greatly exaggerated, so I knew that they would never come to pass. But I could not help the cold sweat that covered me when I was roused. The healers were less than thrilled that I was spending most of my time by the window, but they made no moves to force my hand when they could have. Orders from Faramir, or perhaps even Aragorn or Éomer, more than likely prevented them from protesting. I was growing stronger, finding that I was able to walk around my room unassisted. The trip from my bed to the chair usually exhausted me, but at least I did not have to wait to be carried there.

I stopped my work and rolled my shoulders, sitting up a little. I was hunched over, working on the embroidery every day from sunrise to past sunset, and the strain often caused pain in my back. I sat back, looking to Faramir. I found that he was not looking to the northeast, like most people were, but down into the city. I followed his gaze, surprised to find that below my window, there was a small courtyard with a few trees. The branches reached the bottom edge of my window, but no one save a fool-hardy Elf could make the jump between them without risking their own life. But, surprisingly, I found that Faramir's gaze was fixed on the figure sitting below the tree. Éowyn was leaning against the trunk, a book in her hand. I looked back to Faramir with a knowing smirk.

"Are you falling in love with Éowyn?" I asked suddenly.

Faramir started and looked at me with wide eyes. He looked like a child that had gotten caught sneaking sweets before supper, but he made no move to deny it. I chuckled but shook my head.

"I understand. She is a beautiful maiden, and she should feel lucky to have caught your eye," I said with a kind smile.

Faramir smiled back and looked down to Éowyn in the courtyard.

"Has she returned your affections?" I asked softly.

Faramir smiled to himself, as if he were recalling a fond memory. He nodded, but continued to look out to courtyard. I smiled proudly at him. I was older than him by a few years, and he always felt like my little brother, despite us not being related. This stemmed partially from Boromir asking me to look after him whenever he couldn't.

"I wish you both many years of happiness," I said with a little happy sigh, turning back to my embroidery.

We were silent for another moment before I saw Faramir look to me.

"What do you plan to do with your situation?" Faramir asked quietly.

I looked up at Faramir, confused slightly by his words. To what situation could he be referring?

"Éomer declared his feelings for you. I assume that he has expressed intentions to marry you," Faramir said, his voice casual and calm.

I sighed and lowered the embroidery in my hands to my lap.

"We have not had much time for discussion of such matters. I was only awake a few hours before he had to…depart," I said, struggling with the words for a moment.

Faramir made a little noise, though I could not be sure exactly the feeling behind it.

"Éowyn is sure that he intends to make you his queen, once he takes his throne, of course. She says that it will be just as simple as Éomer coming out and saying that these are his intentions, but I believe otherwise," Faramir continued in that same casual tone.

I nodded, looking out to the northeast. I wished that I could see where the army was. Just some flash of silver armor among the trees. Anything to reassure me that they were still moving.

"Gondorian rules are a little more strict than Rohirric traditions, but I know that you will not be allowed to marry Éomer if you cannot produce some legitimate connection to a noble family," Faramir said heavily.

I nodded vaguely, barely hearing him. I knew that I would have to face this fight, but I had more pressing concerns, like whether the man in question would return at all.

"I've also been told that the marriage ceremony involves goat sacrifice, which seems perfectly acceptable," Faramir said, returning to his causal tone.

My gaze snapped to him, officially paying attention to what he was saying. Faramir was smirking, but it fell with a sigh. I gave him a heated look for his cruel teasing, but I sighed heavily and looked to my lap.

"I have yet to discuss any of this with Éomer. Until such a time as I can do this, I have no plans," I said simply.

"You cannot take this process one step at a time, Braedia. This is politics; this is complicated," Faramir said urgently.

I looked at him with a half-baked glare. "So is love. I just want Éomer to come home to me before I start to discuss matrimony," I snapped, losing my patience for his talk.

Faramir sighed, and decided to leave it alone. He knew better than to push me when I did not want to speak.

I returned to my sewing before my mind grew idle again.

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><p>Later that day, Éowyn and I were taking out evening meal by my window. We ate in silence, both looking to the northeast. The air was thick with worry.<p>

"Do you believe that they would have made it to the Black Gate by now?" she whispered, seeming to think the world around us so fragile that she couldn't use her full voice.

Despite her low volume, I still jumped before shrugging. Their speed depended on too many variables for me to accurately predict their location. Of course, I was running through plenty of scenarios in my head, none of which I was willing to share with Éowyn.

But our meal was interrupted with a knock on the door. Faramir stood there with a little grin on his face.

"Prince Amrothos and Princess Lothíriel of Dol Amroth have arrived and wish to visit. I told them that you were injured and I would ask if you were feeling well enough to entertain," Faramir said, his voice holding a strange edge.

It was outwardly polite, but also a little bit of a warning. He had not forgotten our abandoned conversation. I looked to Éowyn, and she wore an interested, but slightly perplexed expression. She had not missed Faramir's tone, but she did not question him. I considered for a moment faking fatigue or illness, but I knew that Faramir would drag them up here eventually. It would be better to just get this out of the way. I put on my best fake smile and looked to Faramir.

"I would love to see your dear cousins," I said as cloyingly as I could without sounding insincere.

Faramir hesitated for a moment, but then turned and left. I looked to Éowyn with a little sigh. She just laughed. I looked at her questioning.

"You are learning the skills of nobility quite easily. I've seen ladies bred for the court who were much less convincing in their polite smiles," Éowyn said.

I giggled with her, but our laughs were cut short as three figures appeared in the doorway. Éowyn stood in respect, but I was milking my injury for everything it was worth, and I did not stand.

Lothíriel and her older brother, Amrothos, looked very nearly identical. Lothíriel had a curtain of silky brown hair, a color similar to chocolate. Her eyes were the grey of Gondor with a hint at a blue undertone, but her body reflected her slightly Elven heritage. She was slender, lacking in any of the curves that most women worked to their advantage. Amrothos had similarly colored hair, though his fell only to his shoulders. His eyes were a slate blue color, and they were regarding the whole room with cool indifference.

His eyes came to rest on me, and they narrowed slightly. I met his gaze with an expressionless look of my own. Amrothos and I always butted heads, he thinking I was far too independent for my own good, me thinking that he was a misogynistic brat. Needless to say, those opinions were hardly cohesive.

Lothíriel gave Éowyn and I a glowing smile and then practically glided over to the third chair by the window. Once she was seated, Éowyn sat down, looking to me for a reaction. I put on my fake smile again, making an attempt for Faramir's sake. I said I would try, and I would. Perhaps Lothíriel had changed in the years since we had seen each other. Faramir and Amrothos lingered by the fireplace, leaning against the mantle.

"Braedia, I am not sure if you remember me. It has been many years since we last met," Lothíriel practically sang.

She was all sincerity, but I was still cautious. Roses still had thorns, no matter how sweet their simpering grins were.

"I could never forget you, my lady," I said, surprised how easy it was to fall into the fake formalities that I had used so often before my banishment.

Lothíriel let out a chiming laugh, and Éowyn and I chuckled a little with her. After our laughter had died, we just sat in silence.

"So what brings you to Minas Tirith?" Éowyn said, trying to start polite conversation.

"Our father and eldest brother marched with Lord Aragorn to the Black Gate. Our second eldest brother was given charge of the defense of the city while he is gone," Lothíriel said, sounding as if she actually cared what happened to her family.

I kept my guard up, unsure of what to make of her talk.

"I've heard so many exciting tales of your bravery, my lady. Forgive me for my frankness, but is it true that you slew the Witch King of Agmar?" Lothíriel said, an excited gleam to her eyes.

Éowyn swelled with pride and gave a happy nod. Lothíriel gave a little laugh and looked to her brother. I felt a warning start to rise in my mind. I knew those looks that passed between them. Those were the looks they wore whenever they stumbled upon a particularly juicy piece of gossip. I wanted to defend Éowyn, but a warning look from Faramir silenced me.

"Being in this city must be strange for you, being so far from home," Amrothos offered.

His deep voice was strange on my ears, and I had to consciously keep myself from wincing at the sound.

"Gondor is not that much different Rohan. The air is a little warmer, and there are a few more trees," Éowyn said.

I smirked, sensing this to be Éowyn's brand of humor. At least she was not naïve to their games. Lothíriel and Amrothos exchanged another glance.

"Braedia, could you be a dear and fetch us some of the wine from the chest in the corner?" Lothíriel said, looking to me with another cloying grin.

Éowyn's face contorted to concern for a moment before I silenced her with a look. This was a clear challenge from Lothíriel. She was reminding me of exactly how she felt about me: the people around me be treating like a noble, but I was still only a servant and she wanted to remind me that she still had the authority to make such demands, and there was little I could do to protest. I matched her saccharine smile and stood with a little effort. I kept my face impassive as Lothíriel watched my movement. I could feel all eyes on me, but I pushed the pain in my legs aside. I would not give in to her challenge.

As soon as I passed beyond the group of chairs, Lothíriel turned back to Éowyn.

"I only ask because there has been talk of my family spending some time at Edoras, if this battle should turn out in our favor," Lothíriel said causally.

"For what reason?" Éowyn asked quickly, her confusion evident.

"Your brother and my father got along swimmingly, or at least that was what Amrothos said," Lothíriel said.

She looked to him, and he gave a nod, though his face remained expressionless.

"Father wishes to travel to Edoras for your uncle's funeral. We were thinking of remaining there for Lord Éomer's coronation, if you would have us," Amrothos said. I seethed a little.

How presumptuous of them. Éowyn had no way of knowing whether Éomer had made such plans. And the tone he was using suggested that this was less of a question, and more a demand that she acquiesce. Éowyn was silent for a long moment.

"We will just have to see how the battle plays out. There is no use planning for a future that is so uncertain," Éowyn said in her most diplomatic tone.

I made it over to the chest and pulled the lid open, leaning on it heavily. I was sweating from the effort it took to remain calm and not gasp in pain with every step. I picked up the caste of wine, but found that there was someone standing beside me. I looked up and jumped to find that Amrothos was looking down at me. I took an involuntary step back at his proximity, but I recovered from my shock quickly. He reached down and took the goblets out, and then held out his arm for an escort. There was a hint at compassion in his cold eyes, but I was still very wary.

I took his offered arm lightly, not leaning too heavily on him. I would not show any weakness for him to feed on. We made it back to the chairs, and Lothíriel had begun talk of her immediate future, like which dresses she was deciding between for Aragorn's coronation. I sat back down and the wine was poured.

"Of course, I will have to start thinking about a wedding dress soon," Lothíriel said, taking a sip of her wine.

I had my glass raised to my lips, but I froze, my eyes narrowed in a glare. She was looking directly at me, a clear challenge.

"Who is your intended?" Éowyn asked, having a little more grace than myself.

"Nothing is set in stone, of course, what with the future being so uncertain. But Father made it very clear that he thought that your brother would be a good match for me," Lothíriel said, still not looking away from me.

I clutched the glass hard in my hand, lowering it to my lap slowly. I was taking even breaths, trying to control my anger. So this was the woman I would have to face to earn Éomer's hand. I almost wished for anyone else, but my dreams made sense now. I was surprised I did not recognize her before now, but it was of little consequence. Éowyn was a little more vocal in her surprise.

"I did not know that you had met before," Éowyn said, spluttering for a moment.

"Oh, no. Father intends to introduce us at the coronation festivities. But it is a smart match. Éomer is a very handsome man. I was practically raised to be a ruling wife. I would have married Lord Boromir, if circumstances had not arisen," Lothíriel said, her voice a little more pointed and bitter at the mention of her past betrothal that went all sorts of wrong.

She had not looked away from me, as if she were waiting for me to say something. I wanted to. She had no idea how much I wanted to give her a piece of my mind.

"And what if circumstances should arise again?" I said simply, faking a casual tone.

Lothíriel almost seemed surprised that I would say anything without a direct address, but her staring was just as much of an invitation as any direct questioning. Lothíriel smiled, and I felt my stomach turn over.

"I assure you that they won't. Though I have been meaning to ask a favor of you. I've heard you were very close to the family, and perhaps you can help me to gain his favor," Lothíriel said, now quite blatantly ignoring the woman that question should have been addressed to.

I took a small sip of my wine while I gathered my patience. It was difficult because it seemed that she had torn it to scraps upon entering my room, and her words had just tossed the shreds to the wind. After I lowered my goblet to my lap again, I sighed.

"There is very little that I could do to sway Éomer one way or another in any matter. Éowyn will tell you that her brother is a stubborn as he is handsome," I said, looking to Éowyn with a private smirk.

Éowyn smirked back, catching my double meaning. I was sure that I could tell all sorts of lies about Lothíriel, and Éomer would believe every single one of them without hesitation. But I knew that there was very little I could do sway his heart from loving me, nor my heart from loving him.

"Of course. I mean, what was I thinking? You are but a servant. He could not take your opinion very seriously," Lothíriel said, chuckling at her own joke.

I looked to Faramir, giving him a warning look. Lothíriel was testing the limits of my control, and Faramir swallowed. But there was very little he could do.

"Braedia is my lady-in-waiting. She is no mere chambermaid," Éowyn said, jumping to my defense.

I looked to Éowyn fondly, happy to see the anger flashing in her eyes, so similar to her brother's. Lothíriel seemed honestly startled for a moment, but recovered quickly.

"Of course," she said simply. She looked back to me.

"I just remember her being very good at her job, as a chambermaid, that is. Always made sure that my sheets were fresh and my bed made. I was hoping to take her with me to be my chambermaid when I eventually did marry Éomer. Perhaps she would be as good a nurse to my children as her mother was to Boromir and Faramir," Lothíriel said.

I felt my ears growing hotter with every word she spoke. Just the thought of Lothíriel bearing any of Éomer's children was enough to set my blood to boiling.

"Lothíriel, I have very little interest in serving under you. I have healthy employment with Éowyn," I snapped before I could stop myself.

The room went quiet and Lothíriel looked at me with a half-scolding, half-amused look.

"That is Lady Lothíriel, Braedia. You may be living among the nobles, but you still need to address us by our titles," Lothíriel scolded, as if I were some dim-witted serving maid that knew nothing of manners.

"I will call you by a title when you deserve one, Lothíriel," I said, spitting out her name with as much venom as I could.

Lothíriel looked seriously offended, and she scowled at me. It did nothing for her face, except make her look petty and positively ugly.

"When I marry Éomer, you will have no choice but to address me as Queen Lothíriel, or Your Grace," she said, still clearly scolding me, but now with much more snap to her words.

"_If_ you marry him, Lothíriel," I corrected, making sure that she knew that she would not get this one so easily.

"_When_ I am queen, and I can assure you that will come to pass, I will have to steal you away to raise my brats, for I assure you there will be many," Lothíriel spat.

She stood quickly, and began to sweep out of the room. But I stood, feeling strong for the first time in days.

"I would rather die than see you or anyone like you lay so much as one finger on Éomer," I said, practically shouting.

Lothíriel froze in the doorway, but then turned back to me, the smallest of grins on her face. I felt my spine curling into a defensive position; her smile unnerved me. It was sticky sweet, as if we were only having pleasant conversation about the weather.

"Of course you would," she said, clearly patronizing me.

She left, shadowed closely by Amrothos. He, however, did stop and give me a significant look, one that read of clear pity and condescension before leaving.

Once they were gone, I fell back down into my chair, exhausted. I looked back out to the northeast. The dull ache in my heart was back. I felt tears in my eyes. I wished that Éomer was here, just so that he could take me in his arms and assure me that everything would work out in the end. But he wasn't, so I closed my eyes and just imagined that he was here. It was enough, at least for now.

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><p><strong>AN: So was this all you hoped it could be? You like it? Don't? Let me know in a review please. For now, let's get to the responses from last chapter.**

**Willow: Now that you've had your first glance at her, and Braedia's reaction to her, I hope you are excited as I am to see what happens next.**

**Kiiimberly: There will be more Braeomer (from now on, that's what Braedia and Eomer as a couple are going to be called) in the coming parts. I will only be having one sequel to this story, at least following a Braeomer plot line. I do plan on writing a BoromirxBraedia (Bordia? Braedomir? figure something out) story, which would be a prequel to this story. I think I might also write a Legolas story that talks about him and his wife and their story. But the second two are only ideas that haven't really been fleshed out yet.**

**Zoe: It makes me smile to know that there's a little circle of people talking about my story :D I hope that this didn't disappoint you. And please don't literally hold your breath between chapters. I don't want anyone to die because of me.**

**rose: Duly noted. I like switching up POV every now and again, and I considered playing with the narrator perspective for the next story, but it just wouldn't work out without some serious effort.**

**Abi:...it took me like ten minutes to figure out what you were saying, but then once I figured it out, I laughed. I'll try my best to get some more jealous Eomer in the story, and it shouldn't be too hard with the way revisions are going.**

**WV: And what's your verdict on Lothy now?**

**glitterballx: And this is only the beginning of the epic cat fight (as my beta put it in reference to a later interaction).**

**brandi: *looks around innocently whistling a tune***

**Princess of Hounds: Welcome to the group! We all love each other here and are respectful, so there's no need to be shy. And I'm glad that you like the story so much. And your comments tell me that I'm doing my job right :)**

**EarthMama: You will get no hints from me, but it's a big one...**

**Vbelanger: Well, this is your regularly scheduled post. There will be another surprise post sometime late this week.**

**Ashley Dawn: Let me just assure you that we are still in the middle game this whole story. We still have a ways to go before it's over.**

**Lystan: Here's some more noms for you. And Lothy has been one of the most fun characters to write so far. I love that there has been the overarching drama of impending doom, but there's nothing more fun to write, for me, than a good villain. And Lothy is going to be such a good one to pit against Braedia.**

**Well, there you have it. I hope you like this and you'll stick around for the ending. Only six more chapters to go before the end. And I'm going to take another moment here to thank my wonderful, talented beta: Certh. She's been beyond helpful, even answering some of the most ridiculous questions and listening to me babble about my random thoughts regarding this story. She'll be continuing to beta "A Light From the Shadow", which I am more than grateful for.**


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: Thanks for all the greet feedback you guys! We're coming to the end here soon, and I'm working as hard as I can to get the sequel up and to the standards that I put for myself. Hopefully it shouldn't take too long. I don't know what I'm going to call the review responses now that there's this whole comment thing going on. But, whatever we're going to call it, the part where I respond to your reviews/comments is at the bottom.**

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><p>I slumped back in my chair, my posture decidedly very unattractive. The words I shouted at Lothíriel still hung in the tense air.<p>

_I would rather die than see you or anyone like you lay so much as one finger on Éomer._

I closed my eyes. Yes, I meant every word. I would rather die a lonely and painful death than have to witness Éomer wed another woman. I just not bear the pain. And Lothíriel would ensure that I would be there to witness every horrifying moment of her courtship and marriage, if she had her way.

_No,_ I thought violently.

No, she would not get anywhere near him. Not while I had breath in my body.

"Do you care to explain that?" Éowyn said, stunned.

I looked back to her, a sour expression on my face. I glanced over to the fireplace, and saw that Faramir was giving me a dark look. I had all but forgotten they were still there. I sighed and looked away, my foul mood increasing.

"You said that you were going to try to get along with them," Faramir said, harshly scolding me.

My glare snapped to him. "I did try. She was on me from the start," I grumbled defensively.

"I noticed as such. But you did not answer my inquiry as to why," Èowyn said, her tone one of forced calm.

I gave her a little knowing smile. "I did not believe you to be naïve. She was betrothed to marry Boromir. What other circumstances could have arisen to prevent that marriage?" I said, forcing myself to remain calm.

Her realization of the truth was visually shown as a blush spread across her cheeks.

"He called it off, to be with you?" Éowyn asked, still very stunned. I nodded.

I turned to Faramir with an exasperated expression.

"I still believe she was the one that informed on us to your father," I deadpanned.

Faramir, who had been staring at nothing, lost in thought, gave me another sharp look. "You cannot prove that," he said, still mildly irritated with me.

"There were very few people that knew at the time, and two of the five, if you count Lothíriel's partner in crime, are in this room as we speak, and would never have given the secret away. The last of the five was even in the city when your father first confronted me," I shot back.

Faramir rolled his eyes sharply, but didn't respond. I looked back out of the window moodily. It felt slightly childish, but I couldn't have cared less in that moment. Lothíriel and Amrothos always rubbed me the wrong way. While Faramir, Éowyn, Éomer, and even Legolas exemplified the best that noble birth could cause, Lothíriel and Amrothos embodied the worst qualities. They were spoiled and felt entitled, expecting everyone to bow to their whims. My friends did not shrink from hard work or hardship; those two always had other do for them what they could have easily done accomplished themselves.

"You should make sure she isn't shredding any tapestries while she sharpens her claws for me," I muttered to Faramir.

"Braedia," Faramir said, sounding more than mildly angry, but a touch exasperated.

I gave him an innocent look, or as innocent as I could manage. He sighed and left, sensing my clear dismissal.

Éowyn and I sat for a few moment in silence, and I knew she was waiting for me to say something. I sighed and sat up, correcting my posture.

"I assume there is more to this tale than just that," Éowyn said softly.

I looked at her, and she was giving me a neutral look. I slumped forward a little, defeated. She always knew exactly how to disarm me.

"Lothíriel and I see the world differently. She sees a population of people ready to do her bidding. I see a mix of people that should be treated all the same. Of course, those opinions do not exactly coincide well. There was just bad blood from the beginning. You know how I get when my patience is tested. One day, I had a rather nasty outburst, one that made her look quite the fool in front of much of the court. Since that day, she's been trying to get me to do something that, I'm sure, could get me executed or banished," I said, picking my words carefully.

I was not in the mood today to get into the particulars of what, exactly, she tried to trick me into doing.

"Well, if she behaves like that when she is around Éomer, you have nothing to fear. He is not so much of a fool to be distracted from a black heart by a pretty face," Éowyn said, a harsh edge to her voice.

I sighed and looked to the north again. I closed my eyes and Éomer's smiled played behind my eyelids. My heart gave another painful throb. I gave Éowyn a vague nod, but then leaned down and picked up Éomer's tunic. Éowyn sighed, but left it alone.

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><p>I worked nearly constantly for the next four days. Faramir rarely visited, and he never came when Éowyn wasn't also in my room. I knew he was still angry with me, but I did not have enough space in my heart to worry about the loss of Faramir's good favor.<p>

My heart was constantly fretting and aching over the army in the north. Most of my worry was centered around Éomer, but I did fear for Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and the _periain_. When the light faded from the sky at the end of each day and I couldn't sew anymore, I would sit, staring out of my window, tying and untying knots. I rarely slept, for my dreams only terrified me. As the days dragged, I found that I didn't have an appetite. I ate to prevent Éowyn from worrying about me, but I knew that it did little good.

My wounds were healing, but progress was slow. I could walk around my room without feeling exhausted, which I found to be a significant improvement. I wanted to walk around the city, just so that I wouldn't be sitting idle, but the healers were only willing to humor me so far.

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><p><em>I was standing on the steps of Meduseld, looking up at the doors. Éomer was standing at the top of the stairs, and next to him was Lothíriel. She looked simply radiant, dressed in a silk wedding gown of silver and blue, the colors of her house. Their lips were moving, but I couldn't hear the words. I really didn't have to hear the words, because the looks of pure and true love that were being passed between them spoke volumes. <em>

_I could hear my heart shattering in my ears. I wanted to scream, to stop the ceremony, but I was forced to watch as Éomer and Lothíriel shared their first kiss. I found my voice, but I found that it was just in time for me to be bound in chains. I was shackled to the throne in the Great Hall, Éomer and Lothíriel sitting on their exaggeratedly tall dais, looking down at me with cruel smiles. I tried to find the humanity in their eyes, but they were dark. _

_Then suddenly, there were hellish shrieks around me. I looked to find that a pack of beautiful children with chocolate-colored hair and hazel-green eyes were dancing around me, pulling on my chains. All the while, their parents laughed and encouraged them. I sobbed and tried to plead with Éomer, tried to find the love in his eyes. But there was nothing. The children multiplied, and then I was suffocating beneath a pile of laughing, shrieking, beautiful children._

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><p>I shot straight up, nearly falling out of my chair. I had fallen asleep at the window again. I touched my cheek, and it was wet with tears. I clutched my middle, folding over and taking calming breaths. It was only a dream. It was only a dream. It was only a dream.<p>

I looked out of my window to the north. My heart gave a painful throb. I missed him so much. It was physically painful to be separated from him. I dissolved into sobs with my loneliness. The sun hadn't even risen yet, but I already knew that it would be an oppressive one. The clouds were low in the sky, as if there was to be a storm. I cried and watched out of the window. As my tears dried, I wiped them away, and looked around.

I picked up Éomer's tunic and looked to the embroidery. I only had a little bit left, and then it would be done. Perhaps I could finish before the sun rose. I quickly lit the stub of a candle on the table next to me and began my work anew. The repetitive motions of the sewing were enough to get my mind off of my constant worry.

Today made one week since the army had marched. Surely they would have reached the gate by now, even resting every night. The battle would be today. It had to. But I shook the thoughts away before I lost myself to worry again. I focused on the embroidery in my hands and, just as the sun began to peak through the clouds, I made the final knot. I held up the tunic, impressed by my own work. The designs were beautiful and perfect, as if a master garment maker had made them. I felt so proud of it. I could not wait to give it to him.

I folded it carefully and went to the wardrobe. I placed the tunic on the top shelf, and my gaze slid down to my gowns. Éowyn had procured some dresses for me, just so that I would have something to wear if our stay was extended. They were beautiful dresses, dresses I was sure would have cost much money. I ran my hands over the material with a sigh. I looked to the window again. The light was barely beginning to reach the city. There would be hardly anyone awake at this hour, let alone the healers.

I pulled a plain dress from the wardrobe and quickly changed into it. I found a pair of simple slippers and my trusty cloak. It had been washed and repaired since the battle, for which I was very thankful. I slipped on a simply leather belt and felt around the back of the wardrobe for a moment before I came across what I was looking for. I pulled my knife and its new leather sheath out of its hiding place and tucked it carefully into the belt against my back. The battle might have been over, but I never went anywhere without a weapon.

I moved to the door, wincing whenever I didn't mind how I placed my weight on my legs. I peeked my head out and found the corridor to be deserted. I pulled my hood over my head and crept silently through the halls and down to the stable. Most of the servants were up in the Hall of the Steward, save a few that were taking care of the special guests that Aragorn had placed in the Hall of the King. But no one stopped me as I passed them, as I was clearly not worth the effort it took to acknowledge me.

I made it to my destination without being stopped. I lowered my hood and took a deep breath. Sweet hay and horse flesh. Smells of my true home. I moved through the stables, looking for my sweet Narmírë. I had not seen her since the battle, and I did not want her to feel neglected.

Thankfully, she made finding her quite easy. I could hear her nervous whinnies from the entrance with little difficulty. My brow furrowed, wondering what could be causing her such distress. I found that a stable hand was attempting to lead her out of the stall on a lead. She always hated that. She pranced, and the Gondorian boy was getting frustrated. I quickly and nonchalantly walked up to her flank, unseen by the stable hand. Narmírë seemed to smell me, because she calmed slightly. The boy looked pleased, most likely thinking that his empty threats of no treats did something.

"She is beautiful, but she is smarter than you think. She knows that you do not mean what you say," I said.

The boy jumped, noticing me for the first time. He stood a little taller, as if affronted that someone should presume how to tell him how to do his job. Narmírë threw her head over my shoulder and brought me into her form of an embrace. I laughed and hugged her neck.

"_Anirannen gin cened_ [Yes, I missed you, too]," I whispered to her in Elvish.

"She is your horse?" the boy asked harshly.

I looked at him with a little smile. He was young, not quite old enough to be dragged off to war at least. Perhaps fourteen or so with a mop of jet black hair that hung down into his ice blue eyes. Strange eyes for a Gondorian, but not unheard of. He was slender, but not lacking muscle. Most likely from tossing hay bales around.

"Her name is Narmírë. You should introduce yourself, and she might be more apt to listen," I said, gently scolding him in a good-natured way.

The boy was startled for a moment, but then that surprise turned into awe.

"Narmírë, I am Círdor," the boy said, bowing slightly to Narmírë.

She eyed him warily, but I could tell that she understood that he wasn't a threat, at least.

"I need to take her out for exercise," Círdor said after a moment of silence.

"If you have a saddle, I will exercise her for you," I said with a little laugh.

Círdor blushed, affronted and he quickly moved to tell me that I couldn't.

"She is my horse. I should be allowed to ride her if I so choose," I said with a little amused laugh.

Círdor sighed. "He said that you would say that," Círdor muttered, so low that I almost did not hear him.

My brow furrowed in confusion. "Who is 'he'?" I asked, a little more sternly than I probably should have.

Círdor looked up at me with a little embarrassed grin.

"Éomer King. He gave me full charge of her, though she had been less than cooperative this whole week," Círdor said, casting a little glare in Narmírë's direction.

I blushed and smiled. "What did Éomer King tell you in regards to my horse?" I said, feeling happier than I had in many days.

"He gave strict instruction that she was to be given the best care possible, no matter the expense. We got her reshod and she has been groomed twice a day, every day. But he was quite explicit when he said that, if a woman came down to the stable and wished to ride her, I was not to allow it, no matter how adamant she was," Círdor said, swelling a little with pride.

I smiled and rubbed Narmírë's neck. Of course, Éomer would want her spoiled. "Did he say anything else?" I asked softly, wanting to know every detail about Éomer's last hours in the city.

"He did want me to pass on a message to the woman who claimed to own this horse. He said: 'Tell that selfish, headstrong woman that she shouldn't even think about getting on this horse while she's still injured.' I'm not sure if he meant you, but the elf with him laughed quite loudly and chastised the king for trying to control 'a woman as willful as Braedia'," Círdor said.

I could not help but to laugh heartily at the messages. I assumed Éomer had not expected his message to be delivered exactly as he had worded it, but more that his meaning would be conveyed.

"The elf was quite right. I am Braedia, and I wish to at least accompany you to the yard," I said, giving Círdor a knowing smile.

Círdor blushed again, but he took up the lead again and I walked with him and Narmírë out to the exercise yard. A few horses were being ridden around the yard, but it was still very early in the day.

Círdor led Narmírë into the fence and I leaned on the outside, watching as he gently walked her around. He stopped at a place where another hand threw a saddle onto one of the rungs. Círdor nodded to his friend and quickly saddled Narmírë. She kept looking at me, as if questioning why I was not the one riding her. I could only smile. Círdor mounted smoothly, his muscles adept at the motions. He was getting to be a little tall for her, but he was able to ride her with ease. She seemed to relax once he was mounted, sensing a seasoned rider. I smiled fondly at the pair. Círdor obviously enjoyed himself, and Narmírë just liked the attention.

"I remember a time when this place frightened you so much that you would not go anywhere near it," Faramir's voice said from behind me.

He came to lean on the fence beside me and I still smiled fondly at Círdor and Narmírë.

"Now it feels like home. It is the only place that I have found that does not smell of the river, and I never thought that I would feel comfort in its absence," I said with a sigh.

"You have the blood of the Eorlingas, regardless of how little it is. You were not meant to be away from them for long," Faramir said.

I turned my face to look up at him. He was smiling at me, and I relaxed. At least he seemed as if he had forgiven me. I looked back to Círdor and Narmírë, and I found that they were trotting around, Círdor laughing happily as Narmírë danced below him. I chuckled at her playful nature.

"Lothíriel wants to see you punished for your actions, Braedia," Faramir said heavily.

I looked up at him with a slightly strained expression, as if challenging him. But Faramir was still smiling.

"I told her that if she wishes you to get the just punishment for your words, she would have to take it up with Éomer or Aragorn," Faramir said, casually waving his hand as if this were no subject of importance.

I couldn't help but to chuckle a few times at his humor. Éomer, at the very least, would more than likely defend me until his dying breath so any of her tales would fall on deaf ears. But then the thoughts that I had all but pushed aside came back. I rubbed my heart as it ached from the worry. Faramir sighed.

"They will return, Braedia," he said, placing a reassuring arm around my shoulders.

I leaned into his embrace, glad for the physical comfort.

Then suddenly, there was shouting from behind us. Someone was calling Faramir's name. We both looked at each other, surprised and concerned. We saw that a man was running as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Lord Faramir! A messenger from the battlefield is waiting in the throne room!" the man was shouting.

Faramir and I looked at each other, our faces identical in our looks of apprehension and anxiety. Then, as quick as our legs could carry us, we sped off toward the citadel.

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><p><strong>AN: And here we go!**

**glitterballx: While I don't condone violence for the sake of violence (in real life or fiction), I have to agree that there are some very key moments where even I want to strangle her.**

**Zoe: Your wish is my command.**

**rose: The last chapter is one of my favorites, too. Though I like 42 and 45 a lot as well.**

**brandi: *continues whistling* **

**Princess of Hounds: And the warriors in this battle have honed their skills to a razor's edge. **

**Abi: I never actually thought of that part when I wrote it, but I guess it is sort of weird. But, when you're in a confrontation with your archenemy, you sort of lose track of whose around you.**

**EarthMama: Yes, yes it does. *evil laugh* *lightning crash***

**Certh: I thought you liked the second one better...or maybe that's my own opinion.**

**hmmm: No, the story is going to continue into the sequel. I will make sure there is a bit of closure for this one so it feels complete as is, but I'm not going to guarantee that I'm not going to set up for the sequel either. And I have plans for everyone. It's going to be an interesting time for all, I assure you.**

**WV: As always, your conspiracy theory was highly amusing, and I hope that my explanations for the coming events will be just as exciting as yours. And for anyone wondering, no, I will not share, because some things are better left to the imagination.**

** Bluebonnet: Let me just assure you that what I revealed in this chapter is just the tip of the iceberg for their little saga. And while Eomer tell everyone to piss off and "I do what I want" would fit his character, frolicking in fields of flowers would make a cute fluffy one-shot, but not a multi-chapter epic like the one I have planned.**

**Willow: Women have always been more vicious than men. We have no shame about stabbing someone in the back, while men prefer honor and pissing contests.**

**deepofnight: Everyone seems to be on the "Strangle Lothi" bandwagon. I was hoping for some more creative ways to kill her. But I guess the punishment does fit the crime. She hasn't done anything worthy of a creative death just yet.**

**Joushou: No one is supposed to like Lothi, though narrative bias is a big reason for that. I'll try to make this more interesting in the coming chapters.**

**ILoveBooksForever: Firstly, awesome pen name. Second, I'm glad you've joined us. I hope you'll stick around through all the coming crazy.**

**Lystan: It's going to be a rip-roaring good time. If the amount of fun I'm having writing it has any indication to the amount of fun you'll have reading it, then this should be great.**


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: Happy Independence Day, or at least a little early. Today is the day that Americans remember as the day that we told the British, no, thank you, we will not have any of your overly-taxed tea that we get without any representation. It is the day where we declared that "...all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness...". **

**And, two days after that, it is my birthday. In honor of my second decade on this good earth coming to a close and my third beginning, I am going to make like the hobbits and give ya'll a gift: this story will be completely posted by Friday, July 6th. I'll pause a little bit (like 12 hours, give or take) between each chapter, but it will be done. You're welcome in advance. **

**As always, review response are at the bottom.**

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><p>Faramir and I raced to the main hall, me trailing a few steps behind due to my injuries. But my pounding heart would not allow me to slow. If there was news of Éomer, I did not want to have to wait to hear it from some gossip's mouth.<p>

Faramir reached the citadel before me, and he threw the door open with a loud bang. There were several people gathered, more than I anticipated. I was panting as I came in behind him, but I gulped down air trying to gather my composure. A quick glance around the room proved that Éowyn was present, along with Erchirion and several of the Tower Guard.

But among them was a man I did not recognize. He was tall and lithe, almost as if he were an elf. His back was to me, but I saw that he had long, raven hair. At the sound of our entrance, the man turned and I was stunned by his beauty. He was an elf; there was no doubt of that. His eyes, like blue crystal, sparkled with joy, but there was a glow to his face that only came from the Eldar race. Faramir strode quickly into the room and crossed to the messenger.

"My lord, I am Elrohir, son of Elrond. I bring news from the battlefield," the elf, Elrohir said, his voice sounding nearly as song-like as Legolas's.

My heart clenched and I froze near the door, still in shadow. My hand went to my throat, where I felt my heart pounding.

"And? What is the news?" Faramir said, his voice a little more demanding than it should have been.

Elrohir smiled. "It is over. The dark lord Sauron has been defeated," Elrohir practically sang.

There was much rejoicing, but I could not bring myself to relax until I heard the fate of those involved.

"What was the outcome, on our side?" Faramir asked over the commotion, clearly being as realistic as I was.

"Surprisingly few casualties. We only suffered a loss of a few hundred men, and that count was made when I left the camp," Elrohir said, his voice almost irritatingly casual.

"And of the commanders?" I asked.

The room went silent and all turned to me, including the messenger. He must not have seen me before, because his expression was one of surprise before it fell into an easy smile.

"All safe and unharmed," Elrohir said slowly and clearly.

My legs, which had been shaking quite severely beneath me, gave way and I collapsed in relief. He was safe. He was alive. I looked to the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. Éomer was alive. Éowyn rushed to my side, but I could only cry happy tears. I became aware that there was another person next to me as a hand went to my shoulder. Faramir was busy clearing everyone from the hall, making plans to meet them at their camp and escort them back to the city. I looked to the owner of the hand and saw that it was Elrohir.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to call you Braedia, my lady?" the elf asked with a kind smile.

I smiled back and shook my head.

"Then, with your permission, I would like to escort you back to your chambers and give you more news of the battle," Elrohir said, his voice soft and kind.

I nodded and his strong arms quickly scooped me up. I yelped a little in surprise. No one save Éomer and the healers had held me in such a manner that I was aware of, certainly not any elves. I was surprised by how little effort he was putting forward in bearing my weight. The walk back to my room was quick, and I made an effort to stem the happy tears that still leaked from my face.

I had managed to dry my tears by the time he set me down in my chair by my window. Faramir and Éowyn had accompanied me to my room, but I was still looking expectantly at Elrohir, waiting for more news. Elrohir looked around for a moment, clearly amused with what he saw. I blushed a little, taking note of the sort of disheveled state of my room. The chambermaids were reluctant to come in and clean because I never left my chair, and I had not been of enough strength to do it myself. But now, I felt as if I could fly. He was alive.

"I believe that there is more news for you to share with us, especially concerning the fate of our kin," Éowyn said, sitting with me.

She had worry lines on her face, and I knew she was still nervous to learn the exact details of her brother's experience. Elrohir smiled and looked back to us.

"It was a battle for the history books, let me assure you. Impossible odds, but we served our purpose. The Ringbearer completed his task and destroyed the One Ring," Elrohir said, sounding positively chipper.

I smiled brightly; this being only sugar on top of my already sweet news. My Éomer was alive.

"What of his fate?" Faramir asked, sounding very concerned.

"When I rode out for the city, Mithrandir was still searching for him and his companion. I know no more than this," Elrohir said, looking solemn.

Faramir, too, grew sad at the news. He must have met the _perian_ at some point in his journey. Faramir sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, as if saying a silent prayer. But he opened his eyes and his face fell into the determined expression that he often adopted when handling business.

"Is there is a list of the dead?" he asked.

Elrohir nodded and pulled a piece of parchment from his cloak. He handed it to Faramir, who opened and read it quickly.

"As I said before, I left before all of the dead were recovered and identified. Those efforts continue as we speak. When the company arrives back in Minas Tirith, we will be able to publish a more complete list," Elrohir said as he saw Faramir's face darken a little.

Faramir sighed again and looked back to the elf.

"I shall distribute this. Their families deserve to know without delay," Faramir said, sounding a little weary.

Elrohir nodded, and Faramir gave him a little bow before leaving. Éowyn and I sat in silence, waiting to see what would happen next. Elrohir turned to us, wearing a little knowing smile.

"I believe you wish to know news of the commanders?" he questioned, his voice a little casual.

Éowyn gave a tense chuckle. "It is that obvious?" she laughed.

Elrohir's smile broadened, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Excepting the few obligatory scrapes and bruises, both kings came out of the battle unharmed," he said.

I laughed a little at his humor, but Éowyn gave him a fierce look.

"No wounds, no matter how small, are obligatory," she said heatedly.

Elrohir sobered instantly, apology in his eyes. "Of course not, my lady. Forgive my tasteless humor," he said, quickly.

Éowyn back down, but I could tell that she was still a little wary.

"Is there other news, pertaining, perhaps, to others that entered the battle?" I pushed, wanting to know of Legolas, Gimli, and the _periain_.

"The dwarf is fine, save for a sour mood. Legolas outscored him in this battle, which he was loath to hear. The Halflings are well, save for a want for a fine feast," Elrohir relayed, his smile forming again.

I finally relaxed against my chair, satisfied with this news. All that I held dear were safe. I looked to the northeast, feeling lighter and happier than I had in days, or weeks if I really thought about it. No longer was the view laced with worry or despair. I looked to Mordor, and I smiled as I saw the gloom beginning to disperse. Éowyn and Elrohir was talking over the particulars of the battle and the days leading up to it, but I was barely listening.

A little giggle bubbled up through me and erupted softly. I felt as if, long ago, someone had placed a blanket of iron over me. Because I had been bearing the weight for so long, I had become accustomed to the feeling. But now, it felt as if the blanket was gone, and my body was only now noticing the absence. I rubbed my heart again, feeling like it was full of joy fit to burst. Everyone was alive. Éomer was alive.

But my attention was called back to Éowyn and Elrohir's conversation as my name was said.

"Your brother asked me specifically to bring Braedia back to the encampment when I returned. Who am I to deny the direct orders from a king?" Elrohir was saying, sounding slightly amused.

Éowyn glared. "He isn't king yet, and he should know better. It is highly improper for a woman, especially an unmarried woman, to stay in a camp of soldiers without a chaperone," Éowyn sighed, agitated.

I felt my heart swell a little. Éomer wanted to see me. He had asked for me to come to him. Only Elrohir's smile and Éowyn fierce look kept me from flying from the room and galloping to him in that moment.

"Which is why he has extended the invitation to you as well, my lady," Elrohir countered smoothly.

Éowyn sputtered for a moment, surprised. I smirked; she obviously did not want to leave the city because Faramir was not leaving the city He was the Steward and it was his duty to take care of Minas Tirith while her king was away.

"The healers will not allow such a journey while she is injured," Éowyn said, finally deciding that to be the proper counterargument.

"If I may, I was trained in the healing arts by the same hands that trained Est-Aragorn. If she will consent, I can examine her and determine if she is fit to travel." Elrohir said, his smooth speech only faltering for a moment.

I looked at him curiously for a moment as he turned to me. But my face broke into a smile quickly.

"Of course I will consent," I said, all together very amused with everything.

"You examination will be biased in your own favor," Éowyn said, grasping at straws.

Elrohir gave her one of the knowing smiles that all elves seemed to have mastered perfectly.

"There is no such thing as bias when it comes to one's health, my lady. But, if it makes you feel any better, I give you my word that, if Braedia is truly unfit to travel, I will tell you as such," Elrohir said, all humor leaving his countenance, and the utmost sincerity taking its place.

Éowyn sighed, and looked at the elf. She knew she was defeated, but her pride was preventing her from admitting it. She looked at me, and I gave her a reassuring smile. She sighed again, and gave a mute nod. Elrohir gave her a little nod and a smile and then turned to me.

"If I may?" he asked.

I nodded and he knelt next to my chair. I gently raised my skirt over one leg, exposing the wound on my right thigh. Elrohir's face was very serious as he gently touched the wound and the surrounding area, checking for tenderness and swelling.

"How did you acquire this wound?" he asked softly.

"An Orc tried to cut me from my saddle," I said, smirking a little.

Elrohir nodded. His hands were warm and soft, though his fingers weren't nearly as thin as I knew Legolas's to be. Elrohir switched legs, checking both the cut on my calf and the cut on my thigh. I hissed a little as he touched the bruises and Elrohir flashed me a concerned look. I gave him a little smile, showing that I wasn't that affected by the pain.

"What was the name that you almost called Aragorn?" I asked, hoping conversation would distract me from his actions.

Elrohir smirked. "You caught that? My father raised Aragorn, calling him Estel until a time when he could understand his true identity," Elrohir said, a fond smile crossing his handsome face.

"Hope. How appropriate," I said with a little chuckle.

Elrohir looked at me, confused for a moment. He didn't voice his question of how I knew the translation, but I could see it in his eyes. However, I left the question hanging the air for now.

Elrohir had me lower my skirt, and then he tested the strength and range of motion I had. I gritted through the pain, keeping my face as impassive as I could. Éowyn was more concerned with what Elrohir was doing than my expression, so I doubted that she saw my tightly clenched jaw. Elrohir, however, was watching me intently. I knew that he saw the determined look in my eyes, despite the pale color in my cheeks and the tiny amount of sweat that formed on my upper lips. I hoped that he would humor my efforts; I needed to see Éomer and I couldn't wait until they returned from camp. That could take weeks, and I just needed to feel his arms around me before I went completely crazy.

When Elrohir was finished, he sighed and stood. His elven grace was apparent just in the way his body flowed when in motion.

"I see no reason why you cannot travel. Yes, it has only been a week, but you are healed enough to handle the journey. However, you need to be conscious of what your body is telling you," Elrohir said, his voice taking on the warm, objective indifference that only a healer could have.

I looked to Éowyn and her shoulder slumped. She gave me an exasperated look, and I tried to look as innocent as possible. Finally, after a long moment of inspection, she consented. Elrohir smiled.

"I believe we are to depart at first light tomorrow, if you wish to prepare," he said, giving a slight bow.

He left the room, but not before giving me a little wink. I decided in that moment that I would try to get to know the elf better, for I could tell that we would be good friends.

I looked back to Éowyn with a smile.

"Perhaps we should bathe. Only the Valar know of the next time we shall see readily available hot water," I said teasingly.

Éowyn gave me a half-hearted scolding look, which caused me to laugh. Her attempts to be stern failed her in that moment, and she joined me in my laughter. We gathered up some supplies from each of our rooms, and made our way to the bathhouses.

The bathhouses of the White City were an engineering marvel. Water was run from a hot spring located in the mountain into pools of continually circulating water. The pools, for there were two main pools, were large, almost as large at the fountain of the White Tree. When Éowyn and I arrived, we made our way to one of the more private chambers with a smaller pool inside of it. We gathered our hair soaps from the chest in the corner. I was relieved to find that the soap I used to use regularly was still available. While the soaps at Edoras were more than acceptable, there was something about the lavender-scented soaps of Minas Tirith that made my unruly curls behave. Éowyn used a simple soap scented with citrus, her usual fare.

Our bath was a silly affair, full of much giggling and splashing. Something had changed in the air, and it was affecting everyone. Even the attendants, who brought in the towels, weren't nearly as upset as they should have been over the mess we made. When we finished with our bath, we sat by the fire to let our hair dry. I watched the flames with a distant smile, running my fingers through my hair. The curls were drying into near perfect ringlets, but that was the furthest thought from my mind. My head was full of thoughts of Éomer. I missed his touch almost painfully, though memories of his kisses entertained me enough.

"You would have snuck away, even if Elrohir had declared you unfit to travel, would you not?" Éowyn asked, a sly edge to her voice.

I grinned sheepishly, but didn't answer. My smile was enough.

"You are going to get yourself killed one of these days. You truly are reckless," Éowyn said, half-amused, half-chastising.

I looked at her with a smirk on my face. "Speak for yourself, Wraith-slayer. Need I remind you whose idea it was, exactly, to ride out with the men?" I said pointedly.

Éowyn scoffed. "You would have ridden to battle regardless of what I said or did," she threw back.

I laughed. "Not if you would have gone back to Meduseld. My loyalty to you would have overridden any longing I had to defend Minas Tirith," I said smartly.

Éowyn half-smiled. "And for that, I am truly grateful. I only hope that your loyalty to Rohan will be rewarded," Éowyn said, growing a little distant.

My smile became sad as I remembered the battles I had yet to face. I secretly hoped for her wish to be granted, though I would never have said such a thing aloud. I may have been very selfish in my own thoughts, but admitting it out loud would have been entirely too much.

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><p><strong>AN: I hoped you liked the slightly lighter tone of this chapter. The next one was a lot of fun to write, as was the one after that...pretty much the coming chapters were a lot of fun, and I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I do. You should let me know how you feel in a comment/review *hint hint nudge nudge***

**Zoe: Well, I wouldn't call it so much a "surprise" chapter, more of "chapter-not-posted-on-Wednesday". I'm glad that you, like so many others, liked Eomer's little bit about Braedia. I was sort of nervous that people would be sort of upset with his word choice, but I was wrong :) I like being wrong sometimes.**

**rose: To begin with, I'm pretty sure that a Nazgul wouldn't be the one doing the eating, so much as the fell beasts they ride. Secondly, after the Ring is destroyed, they all died. And you're right; she doesn't deserve to have babies after how much she brags about them. And Shelob can stay in her hole, as far as I'm concerned. It's not that I'm scared of spiders. I just prefer it if they stay away from me.**

**Lystan: Oh, there will be much ripping and roaring in the coming chapters, believe me.**

**Princess of Hounds: It is so true. "Selfish" and "headstrong" were the two nicest words I could think of to describe Braedia. Others included "stubborn" "stupid" "reckless" "fool-hardy"...need I go on? **

**CrocScale: Welcome back! You have been missed. I really hope you don't have nightmares about Lothi and Eomer's kids, because I really wouldn't even wish that on my worst enemy. And Legolas and Eomer will be back in a few chapters. **

**Willow: I actually wonder how many people have fallen from there, because it seems like such an easy place to fall from. It doesn't appear to have any sort of railing or rope to keep people away from the edge. So maybe it would be an easy place to "accidentally" push someone from and blame it on a three-foot long dress train...**

**glitterballx: OOOOH GAME OF THRONES! Sorry, just had a little fan-girl moment. And there's been a lot of talk of bandwagons here, but I am definitely on the "Slaughter Geoffry" bandwagon. And you seem a little cynical about Eomer...I hope I can convince you otherwise.**

**Kiiimberly: FINALLY! Someone who understood the reason that little bit was there. Even in his last moments in the city before riding off to war, he took a moment to make sure someone knew not to let Braedia hurt herself further. Thank you for getting it!**

**EarthMama: Now THERE'S a creative death.**

**Guest: I wish I had a pen name for you so I could make sure that you came back to see this review response. And I have a pretty awesome scene planned out for Eomer and Lothiriel meeting for the first time. That will have to wait of the sequel, though.**

**brandi: Yeah, Braedia just sitting around all the time was getting sort of boring. Had to get her out of the room before she got cabin fever.**

**Ambray: May I have my proper review please? I'd love to hear (read?) what you have to say. And please don't die. I've said it once, but I'll say it again: my story isn't THAT good.**


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: I'd like to start out by saying, once again, that you guys are just awesome, in the truest sense of the word. You inspire awe in me. I posted the last chapter at around 11:30 PM (for me), and I woke up this morning at around 8:00 AM to about 15 emails telling me about how many people have put this story (and me) on their alert list. And that's not to mention the reviews that I got. So thank you guys so much. A lot of my writing buddies at school give me crap about writing fan fiction because they don't believe it's "real writing" because I don't "start from an original idea and then develop it from scratch". I believe they even have told me once that "writing fan fiction is like going to Wal-Mart and buying a cake and then trying to pass it off as homemade. You did none of the work, but are trying to take all of the credit". But you guys prove time and time again that every second of work that I put into this story is worth it. So thank you guys. This whole experience has been so humbling and amazing and I can't thank you guys enough. But, before I start shedding tears, I'll just move on to this chapter. This was one of my favorites (but don't tell the others). I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.**

**Review responses are at the bottom, as always. I usually don't do this, but I'm not going to post another chapter until I get 10 reviews (at least). Ten is a nice even number, and it gives time for people to find their way back here.**

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><p>Once we were dry, Éowyn and I quickly dressed in simple gowns. Tomorrow would be the day to dress in riding clothes. The rest of the afternoon was spent packing our saddlebags for the journey.<p>

I wanted to ride in my tunic and breeches, but Éowyn forced my hand. She wanted me to ride side-saddle like a proper lady for the entire ride, which I was sternly opposed to. We comprised in the end: I could ride astride if I wore a proper riding dress. I consented, if only just for my own comfort.

As the sun was setting, I walked to the stable with my saddlebags over my uninjured shoulder. I had two changes of clothes, in addition to a sleeping dress. I was wearing my cloak, which helped to conceal my knife that I had tucked into my belt. My sword and bow had yet to turn up, though the Fields of Pelennor were far from clear. I truly hoped that they would be found, for they were some of the last of my father's personal possessions that I owned.

When I arrived at the stable, I went straight to Narmírë's stall. She perked her ears at my approach and stuck her head over the door to greet me. I laughed a little and rubbed her nose fondly.

"We will be riding out in the morning," I said softly.

The prospect of a true ride made her dance a little in anticipation. I laughed at my silly horse.

"But first we must find a saddle for us," I said.

I set my bags down and opened the stall door. I took up the harness rope, though I held it in a loose grip. Narmírë followed me to outside of the tack storage room and I left her standing there while I went inside. I knew better than to hope for any Rohirric saddles. They were almost as precious to the riders as their swords. Instead, I tried to find a saddle that didn't look like anyone had been using it.

But in the middle of my search, I heard someone cry out in surprise outside of the room. I went to the door quickly and I found Círdor standing there, looking positively aggravated. I smiled brightly.

"You are just the man I hoped to find. Can you assist me for a moment?" I asked, my own chipper tone sounding a little strange to my own ears.

Círdor also noticed my change and gave me an apprehensive look.

"Of course, my lady. But let me re-stable Narmírë. She seems to have gotten loose," Círdor said, giving my horse a feisty look.

I laughed. "She did not get loose. I let her out. I will be riding with the company to the encampment on the morrow and I need a saddle, for mine was damaged during the battle. And a saddle is of little use without the horse to put it on," I said, still chuckling.

Círdor looked baffled, and it seemed that the possibility that I had gone mad in the intervening hours passed through his head at least once while he considered me.

"What of Éomer King's instruction, that you were not to be allowed to ride?" he asked, very skeptical.

I smiled at him, feeling triumphant. "Éomer King was the one who summoned me. And I would be quite the hindrance to the company if I was forced to walk," I said, stifling a little giggle.

Círdor was silent for another long moment, and even Narmírë was looking at him expectantly. But eventually, he sighed and ran a hand through his already untidy black hair. He grumbled his acquiescence, but pick up Narmírë's lead rope and tied it to a ring on the wall. I gave him a knowing smirk.

"That really isn't necessary," I said softly.

"It makes me feel better," Círdor grumbled as he walked by me, so low that I wasn't entirely sure that I was meant to hear it.

I didn't respond, though I found it quite curious that a stable-hand would seem so irritated to be tending to horses. Círdor went to the walls of tack and looked around, his hands on his hips.

"Are you looking for a lady's saddle?" Círdor asked, moving to one of the walls.

"Actually, I was hoping to find a regular saddle," I said quickly.

Círdor looked at me, clearly sizing me up. "You plan to ride astride?" he asked, skeptical again.

I simply nodded and looked at him expectantly. Círdor sighed, shaking his head. He went over to a rack of slightly dusty saddles.

"Have you ever ridden with a Gondorian saddle?" he deadpanned, not looking at me.

"Only when I was a little girl, and that was my father's saddle," I said, smiling sadly at the memories.

Círdor grunted a little. "Who was your father, anyway?" he asked, sounding as if he were only trying to make conversation for conversation's sake.

"Deonvan, son of Dervorin," I said, a touch of pride coming to my voice.

Círdor suddenly stopped in his search and turned around to look at me. His eyes were wide, and he looked me up and down once, as if he were only seeing me for the first time.

"I am Círdor, son of Limmion. My father served with Deonvan for many years," Círdor said excitedly.

My brow furrowed, trying to place the name. All of my father's men remained close with my mother and I after my father's death. They looked after us in small ways, and they made sure that we were never truly in want. The name Limmion struck some chord in my mind, but I had a hard time placing a face to the name.

"Perhaps you know of Thorben or Glínir, my elder brothers," Círdor suggested, though the bitter touch to the words was not lost on me.

That was when I remembered Limmion. Thorben and Glínir had been a little older than me at the time of my father's death, but Círdor had been only a tiny baby. Limmion had visited, bringing his sons, but I had spent much of my time with Boromir and Faramir, seeking them out for comfort during my hardship.

Though, I did remember when I got in a fist fight with Thorben. It had been only a few months since my father's death, and I remember him trying so hard to see to my family. My mother thought it was charming, what with a boy who had barely come of age trying to see to the family of a man that meant so much to his father. But I was proud, even then, and when he had followed me to the market one day as I was doing the shopping, I found that I had enough of his patronizing, chauvinistic treatment. He hadn't been expecting a punch to the face, but he gave as good as he got once he realized that I meant business. It was all worked out in the end, of course. I recalled the memories of his shocked and slightly bloodied face with a bit of a smile.

"Yes, I do remember your family. You were very small the last time I saw you. And now you are a stable-hand," I said, giving Círdor the same fond smile.

The boy game me a bittersweet grin in return. But he turned back to the wall of saddles and pulled one down. It was fairly similar to a Rohirric saddle in its construction, though the design was very Gondorian. It was made entirely of black leather, though it was embossed with silver accents and elegant scroll work.

"It was made as a gift for the son of a lord, but the son quickly tired of horses and left all of the equipment here to gather dust," Círdor said.

I looked at it, impressed with the craftsmanship that had gone into the making of it. It almost saddened me to think that it had been abandoned.

"It was made in Rohan, by one of their master craftsmen," Círdor went on.

I nodded, my suspicions about the construction confirmed. It boded well for me, however. The saddle was not so foreign that I would feel uncomfortable riding in it.

"Is there a bridle to match?" I asked, moving to take the saddle from Círdor.

But the boy stopped me and shifted the saddle to one arm and took down the bridle from its peg with the other. I gave him a chastising look, but let it go, allowing him to do his duty for now. I found an adequate saddle blanket and carried it in my arms as I untied Narmírë. I picked up a bucket of grooming supplies in my other hand. Círdor was trying to take her lead, but was struggling to carry everything and lead her. I laughed and he stopped, giving me a heated look. I clicked my tongue a few times and then walked off toward the paddock. As expected, Narmírë followed me closely, leaving a stunned Círdor to catch up.

When we reached the inside of the paddock, I threw the saddle blanket over the fence and set down the bucket. Círdor hastened to follow me and start the grooming himself, but I beat him to it. Círdor stared, mouth slightly agape as I brushed her down.

"A lady shouldn't groom her own horse. That's what stable hands are for."

Círdor openly scolding me was too much and I threw my head back and laughed.

"She's my horse," I countered, still laughing a little.

"I know. But you would not want to get dirty," Círdor said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I looked down at my dress, showing Círdor that I wasn't exactly dressed in silks or velvets.

"When I wish not to get dirty, I will tell you. But you should at least watch me to learn what Narmírë likes," I said.

Círdor moved to stand beside me, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest. I kept my jests to myself but sighed.

"Any man or woman who can't take care of his or her own horse isn't worthy to ride. It was one of the first lessons I learned from the Eorlingas," I said, a little smile creeping onto my face.

A few memories of my lessons with Éomer came back, making me giggle softly. Círdor ignored my giggles and watched my hands closely, taking his lesson very seriously. But my memories were cut short as a harsh, female voice cut through the air.

"Lofty words from countrymen. I did not realize that peasants were capable of such philosophy," she said.

I looked and my good mood plummeted as I saw Lothíriel coming from the stables. She was being trailed by a skittish-looking stable hand who was leading a lazy-looking brown gelding, one that was wandering slightly in the inexperienced hands of its guide. I swallowed my remarks about the "peasants" she was insulting. She wanted to marry the "countryman" who taught me all of my respect for the beautiful animals.

"There are many things you do not know about Eorlingas," I said curtly, deciding that remark was the safest one I could say in mixed company.

I turned to Círdor and showed him how Narmírë liked her flanks to be combed and brushed. Círdor nodded and I finished up quickly, putting away the grooming supplies. Círdor handed me the saddle blanket, and I noticed the little smirk that was playing across his face. I shot him a warning look, and I hoped it reminded him of whom he was under commands from.

"I hope to learn these things, as I spend more time there," Lothíriel said coolly.

I decidedly kept my back to her and didn't respond as I took the saddle from Círdor. Narmírë danced a little, sensing my irritation.

"It is a little late for a ride," I pointed out as I adjusted the straps.

I pulled a little tight on the girth strap, causing Narmírë to snort at me. I gave her an apologetic look, but I heard Círdor's soft chuckle behind me. I shot him a slightly sterner look, my patience already stretched too thin to want to deal with his sass.

"I could say the same for you. But you see, unlike those who have the luxury of lounging all day, I have many things that acquire my attention, and this is the only chance I get to ride," Lothíriel said, stressing the insults perfectly.

I closed my eyes and counted ten, gaining back my control. I looked glanced over to her with a glare and found that she was over at the mounting block, and the stable hand was helping her into her prissy side-saddle. Even in the low light, I could see the shine of new leather. I huffed a sigh and shook my head.

_Only chance, indeed. Gossiping and terrorizing servants must be so time consuming_, I thought with angry sarcasm.

I turned to bridle Narmírë, but found that Círdor had already done it and was tossing the reins over her head. I adjusted the stirrups to where I thought they should have gone, and braced myself. I knew that I should have used the mounting block, or at the very least had Círdor help me, but my pride made me haul myself into the saddle by my own power. The pain in my shoulder and legs shot through me, but I gritted my teeth against any sounds that tried to escape. Once in the saddle, Círdor quickly moved to my side.

"My lady?" he questioned, sounding genuinely concerned now.

I looked down at him, and I saw the emotion shining in his eyes.

"The stirrups are fine, Círdor. You may go if you wish," I said softly.

I hoped that any anger I was feeling toward Lothíriel, who was casually walking her horse around the corral, didn't leak out. Círdor's face stretched into that teasing smirk from only a few moments ago.

"And miss this clash of words? Nay, my lady," Círdor laugh.

I shot him another glare, though this effort was only half-hearted. He walked beside me as I moved from the paddock to the corral. Lothíriel looked up at her jaw dropped a little as she saw that I was sitting like a man. I nudged Narmírë into a walk, trying to get a feel for the new saddle. It was basically brand new, save a little dust, which meant that I didn't have to fight against anyone else's impressions.

Narmírë was very happy to have me back in the saddle. As we walked laps around the corral, I could tell that she was parading a little. She held her head high and, when we moved into a trot, there seemed to be a little more bounce that usual to her steps.

"_Ci roch dhollost _[You are a silly horse]," I said softly, laughing at her antics.

She looked back at me briefly with an innocent expression, which only made me laugh more.

Lothíriel, who I had all but forgotten was even there, made an undignified noise and my smile faded as I looked at her.

"You treat your horse as if it can understand your words," Lothriel scoffed.

I smiled knowingly as I trotted past her. She tried to nudge her gelding to go faster, but it just looked exasperated and bored.

"_She_ does. All horses understand whether their rider means what he or she is saying," I said.

I sped up into a canter, putting Narmírë through her paces. We wove a little through imagined obstacles, kicking up some dust in the dying light.

"Horses are like people. Each has its own personality, and they bond with their rider," I said, my voice a little louder.

I swung Narmírë around after a quick stop, causing her to rear a little. But then she took off at a faster pace around the corral. Lothíriel coughed pointedly as my dust cloud surrounded her. I was glad for the dust; it prevented Lothíriel from seeing my smile. My mind had drifted back to Éomer and Firefoot. Éomer doted on his horse, but Firefoot returned the favor with his unshakable loyalty.

"Did the people of Rohan teach you that too?" Lothíriel sneered.

I slowed and brought Narmírë to halt, facing Lothíriel. She stopped too, though several paces after she had first commanded it. My face fell into a serious expression as I regarded her.

"No. I learned this for myself. Narmírë saved my life after the Battle of the Pelennor fields. I would wager that your brute would not think twice about throwing you and leaving you behind if it got spooked," I shot back, challenged Lothíriel to contradict me.

"You have become just like them, you know. Simple. Boring. Uneducated," Lothíriel said, throwing the words like daggers.

"And what would you have me be? Just like you? Petty? Malicious? Lazy? Arrogant?" I shot back, responding before the words had left her mouth.

"It is better than being a peasant in love with an animal," Lothíriel said, laughing haughtily.

I let out a few humorless chuckles. "You intend to marry their king. And he is a shining example of everything that Rohan is: elegance that you could never see; strength that you will never know; pride of the best sort; knowledge of things that you couldn't even begin to comprehend," I said, raising my voice a little.

"I will marry the king, but I do not need to know him or his people. I only need to please him, and I know exactly how to do that," Lothíriel said, a little smirk playing across her face.

My eyes narrowed, fire rushing through my veins. My vision was tinted red, but I refrained from rash action for the moment.

"You could never please him, for it takes much more than a pretty face to please a man like Éomer," I said coldly.

Lothíriel seemed shocked for a moment, but then her face spread into that sticky sweet grin, the grin that made my stomach flip and my skin crawl. My hand went instinctively to the knife at my back.

"Since you know so much about what pleases Éomer King, tell me: is the rumor about the Rohirrim true? Do the men truly lay with their noble steeds? Because I do not know if I could bed a man who fu-"

Before the coarse word could leave her lips, my dagger was imbedded in the wood post directly over Lothíriel's shoulder. I had been aiming to miss, of course, though the thought had crossed my mind to make my hand "slip" and have the knife bury itself in her pretty little forehead.

I was breathing hard. All I felt was blood lust. I wanted her dead for even thinking of shaming the Rohirrim in such a way. To even suggest of defiling one of the beautiful mounts was close to blasphemy, and to have Lothíriel even hint that Éomer would do such a thing to his beloved Firefoot was not something I could let go unpunished. Lothíriel was in shock for a moment, looking back and forth between me and the dagger. I took advantage of her momentary silence.

"If you ever say anything like that ever again about any of the Eorlingas, I swear that I will not miss again," I growled, my voice more dangerous and threatening than any shouted insults I could have conjured.

I rode up and the gelding moved out of my way, almost as if sensing the authority that I had rolling off of me in waves. Lothíriel tried to stand her ground, but her commands to her horse were followed with just as much discipline as before. I took my knife from the wood and turned back to Lothíriel. She was recovering and she was trying to form coherent words. I turned and tried to walk away, but Lothíriel found her voice before I could.

"Wench! You dare to threaten my life in such a manner and think there will be no consequences!" Lothíriel shouted.

I turned back to her with a little smirk. I was still feeling the rage, but it was starting to ebb.

"Yes, harlot, I dare," I said slowly and clearly.

"And you add a blatant insult to the list of your crimes," Lothíriel gasped, red-faced and indigent.

"Forgive me, my lady. I merely thought that we were speaking openly on how we feel about each other," I said, coating my words with a heavy layer of sarcasm and fake sincerity.

Lothíriel gasped again, and it took all of my self control to keep from laughing aloud. Her eyes narrowed to a spiteful glare, only diminishing her beauty further.

"You will not get away with this," she said, sounding positively murderous.

I smiled at her, which only irritated her more.

"And whom do you propose to tell?" I asked confidently.

I knew that she would be hard-pressed to find a man in power that could do anything about this. All those with any authority over me would be able to see right through whatever lies she would come up with, and a man that would believe her and would be willing to do something would have to get through everyone else around me. Lothíriel's retort caught in her throat and I just chuckled. Lothíriel tried to be threatening, but when push came to shove, I knew her to be a coward. I turned Narmírë around again, finished with this conversation.

"It will be your word against mine, you know. And who will believe a lowly, pathetic, servant girl?" Lothíriel called, trying to get the last word in.

I turned in the saddle and smirked at her.

"You know, the frequency with which you call me a servant will not make it any truer than the last," I said, feeling giddy from my triumphant.

Lothíriel huffed, but could think of no retort. To add insult to Lothíriel's injury, Círdor chose that moment to come to my side.

"May I assist you, my lady?" he asked, his voice louder and more formal than it probably should have been.

I held in the urges to allow him to help me, and to laugh hysterically. Instead, I merely slid gracefully from my saddle, a move that I had more than mastered over the years of riding. I walked back to the stable, but not before I heard Lothíriel screaming at her stable-hand.

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><p><strong>AN: I absolutely adore this chapter. My beta called it "a real cat fight in disguise, without them pulling each other's hair out, that is". The hair pulling may or may not come later. But for now, let's just go to the responses.**

**Certh: I know you didn't review. But I know you were concerned over that little bit with Thorben I mentioned in this chapter. I fixed it, just so you know. P.S. I hope to spend a good chunk of time next week writing (like locking myself in a room for 14 hours, only coming out to potty and eat), and I hope you won't mind if I rapid fire chapters at you...**

**BlueEyedWolf33: Thank you for your first review. And this is another reason why I love you guys. You are just so creative. And, while those ideas are tempting, I have much bigger plans for our dear Lothiriel.**

**brandi: I don't think my Elrohir and Elladan will be the same twins you are used to. My beta and I are making damn sure that I stick to canon with their personalities, something that a lot of writers don't necessarily do. And yes, there is going to be a sequel. I have it all planned out. It just needs to get from my head and onto a page (whether that be on paper or on a computer).**

**Willow: You never know what Eomer would or would not believe. I mean, as glitterballx pointed out in her review for chapter 40, men are very susceptible to manipulation by women. And Eomer is very susceptible to anything Braedia does, just because he loves her so much. It could happen...but not really, because I don't want to dirty Braedia's hands in that way.**

**Zoe: I like the twins, too. I will be making at least Elrohir a much bigger player in this story than he was in the books. And you don't have to thank me for responding to reviews. The way I look at it, you take the time out of your day to write it, so it's the least I can do to take the time out of my day to respond.**

**Charlotte: Aww you made me blush! Thank you so much! But you're going to have to wait a little longer for some more Braeomer action (at least a day, maybe a little more).**

**Ambray: I pity you. I have to drag my sorry butt out of bed at 8AM to get to work by 10:30...I can't even imagine what 5AM is like anymore. And I'm sorry. This is being posted in the middle of the day (I'm guessing you're somewhere in the UK or Europe, based on the differences in time), so you shouldn't be sleep deprived reading this one. And if you're looking for good EomerXOC fan fiction to read, I recommend "Fate and Synchronicity" by camlann, "For Gondor and Rohan" and its sequel "For Rohan and Redemption" by stndabvthcrwld1, and "Heart of the Horselord" and all of its sequels by rynogeny. And, for a good EomerXLothiriel story, "The Ugly Duckling of Dol Amroth" by Spake2121 is fantastic. My only wish, though, if you go read them, review and let them know I sent you. And I may have said this before, but it's worth repeating. I hate fics where everyone is like "I only met you two hours ago, but I want to be with you for the rest of my life". That just doesn't happen with real people, and just because this is fiction doesn't make it okay. But I'm glad you like Braedia. She is, so far, my favorite OFC that I've written.**

**glitterballx: Meh, I don't think you're being critical so much as realistic. I'm right there with you on the "men are stupid" train. And trust me, he more than proves himself worthy of Braedia. But then again, I'm sort of biased. You'll just have to tell me when the time comes. **

**LightsCDark: You've been away for a while. It's good to have you back. And I don't really deal with a lot of the concerns people have for the EomerxBraediaxLothiriel triangle thingy I have going on right now. That's an issue for the sequel. Right now, I'm just building tension. **

**deepofnight: Sorry. None of that for a little while. But it's worth the wait; I promise.**


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N: Once again, I have come to realize that I should never underestimate you guys. In only a few short hours, you guys have met and exceeded my expectations. So, as promised, here's another chapter. The responses to the many reviews are at the bottom.**

**Tomorrow is sort of a busy day for me, but I will post another chapter in the morning, and then again maybe in the evening. Those will be the last two chapters, and then this story is done. Scary, right? But don't worry; I am working hard on the sequel.**

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><p>Night had fallen and I was sitting in the courtyard below my room. I had become too restless to sit at my window. Now that the battle was over and the prospect of leaving at first light had come to mind, my heart would not stay still long enough to find rest. I knew that I should have been sleeping, just so I would not look ragged when we reached the encampment, but no matter how long I lay in my bed, I could not find sleep.<p>

So I had resigned myself to the courtyard, staring up at the stars through the leaves of the trees. It was well into spring, and new life was forming around me. The leaves were small, only just forming. Life was beginning again. I sighed, content with the knowledge that, in just three days' time, I would be in Éomer's arms again.

I pulled my hair over my shoulder and ran my fingers through the curls, thinking of him. I was anxious, for I was unsure of how he would treat me. I knew that I would have to control myself, for propriety's sake, but I knew that it would be difficult to do anything save vaulting from my saddle and into his arms. I sighed, longing for the security and warmth that came with his embrace.

The stars blinked overhead, and I wondered vaguely if Éomer was looking up at the stars. During my vigil, the slight possibility that Éomer would be looking at the same stars as I was had given me hope, and now was no different. I closed my eyes and let the breeze bring the smell of the river to my nose.

But my solitude was interrupted as I heard a twig snap behind me. I quickly stood from my seated position and turned to face the intruder. My hand went to my back, where my dagger was hidden.

"There is no need for that, Braedia," a voice said.

My breath caught in my throat and my eyes went wide.

"Erchirion," I breathed, feeling anxious.

Erchirion stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. It was strange to regard him, for he looked so different from his younger siblings. While he shared their bright blue eyes, he had the same blond hair as his father, the only child to have inherited the trait. It was pulled back in a traditional style, which kept it out of his sharply angled face. His eyes were not unkind, and did not regard me with the disgust that his siblings were so prone to have for me. I did not relax, but I could see that he meant no harm. He was dressed simply, only wearing a tunic and breeches, and he carried no weapons. He looked as if he had risen from bed for a midnight stroll, just as I had done earlier.

We studied each other for a long moment, waiting for the other to make the first move. He had walked to be less than five paces from me, but had not moved since. He was invading on my privacy, so I wanted him to speak first. He eventually looked away from my gaze and out toward the horizon.

"What brings you out at this hour? Should you not be resting for tomorrow's journey?" Erchirion asked, clearing his throat a little first.

"I find myself unable to quiet my mind enough. What brings you out this far? Surely there are courtyards aplenty in the House of the Steward," I said, trying my best to stay casual. But it was hard to remain causal with any of the family that had tried to make a fool out of me.

Erchirion sighed and looked down a little. I still looked at him, waiting for an answer to my question.

"The House of the Steward has become a little oppressive as of late. There is quiet here," he said.

I did not acknowledge that answer, though I found it curious. We stayed in awkward silence for another long moment. I made no move to leave, for this was essentially my courtyard. I had been here first, and I would not abandon it because he had merely walked in. But he made no move to look at me, and he appeared to be lost in thought. I wondered vaguely what he was thinking about, but I left it at that. The whole family was made up of schemers, and it did not take much imagination to guess at their thoughts.

"I thought of you often, during your banishment," Erchirion said finally, his voice low and soft.

I was so startled by this that I did not know how to respond. I simply raised my eyebrows and opened and closed my mouth a few times, no words coming out. I quickly composed myself as his intense blue eyes turned to me.

"Oh?" I said simply, not trusting myself to speak any other words.

"I know that it did not seem like it at the time, but I did not wish for things to turn as they did. Lothíriel was using me as much as she was using you," Erchirion said.

I scoffed and turned away. A statement like that coming from anyone of the House of Dol Amroth held just as much water as a holey pail.

"Braedia, do not do this to me. I have never meant you any harm," Erchirion said, growing exasperated.

"Then tell me: what makes you think you can play me for a fool this time when I have seen how deceitful your family can be?" I spat, throwing my words over my shoulder and not looking at him.

Erchirion sighed, and paused in his speech for a moment. "Because I know what I did was wrong. And I have regretted it every day since," he said heavily.

The tone of sincerity caused me to turn and looked at him. I was ready to throw hot, angry words at him for trying to trick me again, but the slump of his shoulders and the tears in his eyes prevented the words from escaping.

"If I had known your true feelings, then I never would have approached you in such a manner. If I had seen what a lying, scheming wench that my sister is, then I never would have believed what she told me of you," Erchirion said, his voice shaking.

I wanted to speak, but all words and logical thought flew from my head. It was like watching an animal die a slow and painful death, and not having the power to ease its pain. I had no idea what to say or do, no idea what was even happening. I had spent much of my life hating this man for what he had tried to do to me, but now it all seemed that there was new information to be had.

"What did she tell you?" I asked hoarsely.

Erchirion looked at me, his eyes growing a little more determined. "She told me that you enjoyed it when men would force you into…"

Erchirion's voice cracked and failed him. I bit back angry words. It was not unheard of for certain women to like that sort of treatment, but to have it be attributed to me was unthinkable. Did Lothíriel's venom know no bounds? I shook my head.

"And she told me that you were interested in me. But I told her, in not so vague terms, that I was not interested in you. I believe that most know to whom my heart belonged at that time," I said flatly, now finding myself unable to look at him.

"She said that you were just shy, but had an…exotic side that enjoyed a special treatment. She said that you would give in eventually. Little did she know that you have one mean right hook," Erchirion said, rubbing his jaw a little at the memory.

We shared a tentative laugh. We both looked up at each other in the same moment and I sighed.

"Your sister has been wrong about many things over the years," I whispered, my voice only barely reaching his ears.

"Was she wrong when she said that you tried to kill her today?" he whispered back.

My anger from my earlier encounter came back and my hands formed into fists at my sides and I gnashed my teeth violently.

"She accused Éomer of one of the worst things a man of Rohan could ever do, and I only meant to scare her. I value my life too much to actually take the time out of my day to kill her," I said spitefully, spitting out the words with a little more aggression than I should have.

Surprisingly, Erchirion just chuckled softly. "Well, rest easy in the knowledge that you succeeded. She was terrified. While you often sparred verbally with her, you never took out your anger on her physically," Erchirion said, and I swore that I heard of touch of admiration in his voice.

"What can I say? Rohan has done nothing to help me control my temper," I said jestingly, a smirk playing across my face.

Erchirion laughed a little, but then we fell into silence again. I shuffled my feet, unsure of what to do. I was still apprehensive about his intentions, but I noticed that he had not closed the distance between us when he could have.

"Lothíriel expressed a wish to ride out to the encampment with us," Erchirion said after a moment.

My heart clenched. I was not ready for Éomer to meet Lothíriel. I had to see him first, to know that I had not imagined his feelings for me.

"Oh?" I said again, matching my tone from before.

"And I have denied her request. She has no true reason to visit the soldiers. It is not as if she cannot wait for their return. And my father and brother expressed no dire need for her presence," Erchirion said.

I looked up at him, and he was giving me a significant look. I gasped ever so slightly, and he smiled at me.

"Thank you, my lord," I said simply, unsure of what else I could do or say.

"Do not waste your days. She will be on him the moment he steps foot in this city," Erchirion warned, his smile unwavering.

I gave him the first true smile since our first meeting and he bowed slightly before turning and leaving me alone again. I looked to the stars again and closed my eyes. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar, for only they could have influenced such a change in my fate. I went back to my room after a moment, and found that sleep came easier.

I woke only after a few hours, and certainly before first light. I found that I was wide awake, despite only having had a few hours of sleep. I quickly went to my wardrobe and found the dress that I was to wear.

It was a pretty dress, a deep grey linen that accented the color of my eyes. There were accents of silver and green to the overdress, and the skirt was of enough volume to make riding acceptable. The front and back of the overdress were split for comfort, allowing the peat green underdress to be seen.

Thankfully, I was able to lace the dress on my own without having to resort to a maid's help. I had yet to see any of the chambermaids or handmaidens with whom I had grown up with, and something in me told me that they were abstinently avoiding me, but in that moment, it mattered very little. Those were things that could be taken care of once I returned.

I braided my hair back in a simple plait, just to keep it from blowing in my face during the ride. I wore my usual boots, which thankfully had been washed and repaired. I was able to slip my knife back into its usual sheath, and it felt comforting there.

I turned to leave my room, but was surprised to find that Elrohir was standing in the doorway, his hand poised to knock. I jumped a little, but laughed all the same.

"I have come to escort you to the stables, my lady. Our company is eager to depart," he said with a little nod of his head.

I nodded and he extended his arm, which I took a little reluctantly. Even after all the times that Legolas had insisted on escorting me, I was still not used to the feeling.

We made our way in silence to the stable and I was pleased to find that Círdor was brushing down Narmírë, using the skills I had shown him yesterday. She seemed all the more relaxed around him, which was comforting. Círdor looked up at our approach, and seemed a little awestruck. I wrote it off to Elrohir's presence. He gave a little bow, which I found highly amusing.

"Well done, Círdor. I believe that you and Narmírë will become fast friends," I said with a little smile.

Círdor grinned a little, but saddled Narmírë quickly and efficiently. Elrohir stood a little behind me, just a silent watch. After Círdor was finished, he seemed a little put out. I looked around, and found that there was still plenty of time left before we were to depart.

"Círdor, what will you do while I am gone?" I asked softly.

He looked at me, confused. "I will take care of other horses," he said, his confusion showing through his words.

I took the reins from Círdor as he led her out of the stall. I rubbed her nose a little. "What do you say to that, my sweet? Would you like your groom to take care of others that are not you?" I asked, speaking lovingly to Narmírë.

She shot me a heated look and then looked to Círdor with the same expression. Círdor seemed startled that she would even recognize me, let alone show him any other emotion than amused indifference.

"You see, Narmírë can be quite jealous, and she often finds it hard to believe that there are other horses out there that require more attention than her. I feel that she would be offended if you were to remain behind and not take care of her," I said.

Círdor took a moment to realize what I meant, but when he did, a huge grin spread across his face.

"I will prepare, my lady," he said, giving me another bow before dashing off.

I laughed, and I heard a chuckle from behind me. I turned to find Elrohir smiling at me. I gave him a questioning look, and he approached me.

"You have many sides, Braedia, daughter of Deonvan. It has been amusing to see them all," Elrohir said.

I blushed a little and looked away. "And what sides of me have you seen?" I asked, stroking Narmírë's neck, just to have something to do with my hands.

"I have seen you to be caring, compassionate, but you can also be a ruthless viper when those you love are insulted or threatened," Elrohir said.

I gasped and looked at him. "You did not witness last night at the corral, did you?" I asked, mortally embarrassed that my temper had been shown so quickly.

Elrohir gave a little chuckle. "Éomer King requested that I keep watch over you. He knows how utterly stubborn you can be at times, his exact words being, if I remember correctly, 'she will hate me, but I cannot, in good conscience, leave her to her own devices, for she will surely get herself killed if I do', but I could be remembering wrong," Elrohir said, brushing his words off.

I gave him a stern, but amused, look. Elves were not prey to forgetfulness, but his humor was not lost on me.

"He only knows these things because he is my equal in those categories," I said, attempting to be stern.

Elrohir and I laughed again, but then fell into silence for another moment.

"I also witnessed your exchange with the Dol Amroth captain," Elrohir said, lowering his voice to near a whisper.

I blushed again and looked away.

"If you do not wish me to know of the exact events, then I will respect your privacy," Elrohir said, quickly trying to amend some imagined hurt.

"No, it is not that. The whole affair was messy, and there has been bad blood between myself and Dol Amroth ever since. I was labeled a harlot, a seducer, when in truth, Lord Erchirion and I were both naïve to the truth of the whole fabricated situation. Boromir was able to mend some of the hurt, but the stigma that came with the events has yet to pass," I said, speaking no louder than he so not to be overheard.

"If you do not mind my asking, which stigma were you hastily given?" Elrohir asked.

I sighed and shook my head. I could have spoken the words to Legolas with little thought. I knew he would keep my secret and not judge me, for he knew my true character. But Elrohir's motives and beliefs were still a mystery to me, and I wasn't entirely sure that I trusted him, despite my feelings that we could be good friends, if the time were allowed for such a relationship to develop.

"They called me a usurper, for I had apparently tried to seduce the second of Dol Amroth, and it was clear that the heir to the Stewardship favored me," I said, the old shame I had long since buried coming to the surface once again.

To have my honor questioned was mortifying, and it reminded me of bad memories. There was a touch of my shoulder and I look to find that Elrohir was giving me a concerned look. He didn't say anything for a long moment, and he seemed to hesitate, debating on what he wanted to say. I allowed him to think, though it seemed as if he didn't really need to say anything. His comforting touch was enough.

Thankfully, Círdor approached before the moment became too long. He was leading a dark brown gelding, a strong and steady mount. It wasn't a warhorse, nor was it one of the great steeds that the herds of Rohan produced, but it was satisfactory. Círdor, as least, was pleased with himself. Elrohir smiled at me once more before walking away. Círdor started chatting away for a moment, telling me what he had packed for the journey. I was barely listening as we moved out into the courtyard where the party was gathered.

There was a troop of thirty Swan Knights, though that was just a small fraction of the number that protected Minas Tirith. Faramir was standing with Erchirion, speaking very seriously. Éowyn was standing off to one side with her horse, which I found to be strange. I walked with Narmírë and Círdor over to her. She smiled at me briefly, but her gaze was caught by something. I followed her eyes and wasn't surprised to find she was staring at Faramir. I gave her a sly, teasing smile, and she blushed quite an attractive shade of pink. I just laughed and left her to drain her cheeks.

Faramir finished his conversation and then came over to Éowyn, Círdor and I. He greeted us with a little smile, though he was slightly confused by the boy's presence, but said nothing about it.

"I wish you well on your journey and eagerly await your return," he said.

His words were intended for the both of us, but his eyes were locked on Éowyn. She nodded and seemed a little breathless. I didn't say anything, just for their sake. Éowyn would, however, get a thorough teasing later after we departed.

The farewells were exchanged and, before long, everyone was mounted and ranks were formed. Elrohir and Erchirion rode in front, while Éowyn, Círdor, myself and a ranking officer forced the first line.

As we left, I noticed that Amrothos and Lothíriel were standing behind Faramir, watching us go. I simply threw a triumphant smile in her direction; I was rewarded with an ugly scowl on her pretty face. I held in the urge to throw my head back and laugh, just for propriety's sake. But my heart was lighter than air. In only three days' time, I would be with Éomer once again.

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><p><strong>AN: Please don't hate me. Eomer is coming back in the next chapter, I promise. But here are the responses.**

**Zoe: Oh, there will be. And thank you for the birthday wish.**

**Ashes2Dust18: If I haven't said so before, I'm a pretty big Game of Thrones fan. And if I've learned anything from watching Games of Thrones, it is that those who deserve to have something bad happen to them, usually don't get it, at least not right away.**

**Certh: I will begin writing right away.**

**Abi: I'm doing the best I can. I do want to wait a few hours between chapters.**

**LightsCDark: You attitude toward FF is sort of my attitude toward YouTube, but FF has just passed YouTube as my most visited page, which is saying something. And I know people are getting anxious about seeing Eomer, but he's coming, so just be patient.**

**Ambray: Which part of the UK are you from? I have a friend from Liverpool, and it might just be a really small world...And yes, read all of those stories because they are SOOO good. Good stories, I hate to admit it, are hard to find. I'm considering starting up a community thingy so that anyone who finds a good story they want to recommend to others can put it there. What say everyone to that idea?**

**glitterballx: No, I'm pretty sure that Lothy, being the arrogant bitch that she is, was thinking that Braedia was actually aiming for her head and missed. But that's just me...**

**Charlotte: I'm pretty sure that FF only lets you post one review per chapter, so to prevent spam. But no, it really wouldn't. I post a chapter when I get the chance, and tomorrow is a busy day for me. I'll do my best to get two out tomorrow, but the last chapter may have to wait depending on how many reviews I get and how much I choose to respond to them. And I honestly haven't thought about an Eowyn/Faramir story. I just don't think I could do Eowyn justice, as a character. And I've got plenty of ideas for a couple other tangent stories.**

**EarthMama: I'm pretty sure that Braedia would be the Alpha Female in the wolf pack, even if I were in it personally. And I always find that words are a lot more powerful than any physical threat. Plus, it's a lot more fun to write. And thank you for the birthday wish.**

**Willow: And you've still got one more chapter...sorry.**

**Bluebonnet: I have a great scene planned for everything and the scene where Eomer and Lothiriel meet is no exception. Though I do have to warn you, because of the way the story is told, there is serious bias going on right now. Braedia HATES Lothiriel, so she's obvious going to paint a really bad picture of her. Just keep that in mind, going forward.**

**Princess of Hounds: I love that you agree that she has one very big flaw, because I've worked very hard to make her stubborn. I'm pretty sure that it was back in chapter 3, Willow pointed out even then that Braedia is super stubborn, and I warned everyone that it was only going to get worse. Was I right? *nods knowingly***

**WV: No worries. Everyone gets busy. And I'm glad to have you back. As to your little criticism, Faramir was busy herding people out and preparing to leave. And it wasn't as if he just scooped her up without asking. But I see your point. I'll try to keep that in mind. And as for introducing Elrohir, I thought it was appropriate. He would be trusted by Aragorn, because he knew Elrohir from basically birth; he would be a fast and sure rider, because of his hertiage; and he would be respected for all the previous reasons.**

**Sven: I'm glad to see that you have found your voice, and I'm glad to hear that you are enjoying the story. Like I said, I think I may start a community for good Lord of the Rings fictions. So if you know of any, please recommend them so I can add them to the list.**

**brandi: I am excited to show more of them, especially in the sequel. But be careful; Elrohir and Elladan are not Elves. They are Peredhil, Half-Elven. My beta called me on the carpet about my use of Elf to describe them, but I'm getting away with it because the narrator (Braedia) doesn't know any better.**

**I look forward to seeing your reviews for this chapter. Only two more left!**


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N: So I know I said one chapter in the morning, one in the evening, but I sort of failed on that one. Today has been a busy, busy day for me, so I didn't get a chance to sit down and publish. But I'm here now doing it. And, to make up for my lie, you will be getting both chapters back to back. I will be answering five reviews here, and five in the beginning of the next (and last) chapter. So if you don't see your review response here, it will be there. **

**Also, the poem/song Elrohir sings in this chapter doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Tiwn (Original poems © 2003, E. Brundige.). There; now no one can sue me. But on with the chapter.**

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><p>The trip to Cormallen, where the encampment had been erected, was uneventful, but extremely frustrating. I wanted nothing more than to travel light and swift over the miles that separated me and my beloved Éomer, but the company traveled no faster than a trot the entire way. I was restless, often cantering away and back to the column, Círdor riding beside me as an escort. He was aware of my slightly foul mood, as was everyone, but no one said anything about it. I often caught Éowyn giving me alternately chastising and pitying looks every time I returned from one of these short ventures.<p>

We stopped every night along the way to make camp, which I knew to be necessary, but would have rather done without. Every stop, every rest, kept me from Éomer's arms, and I was ready to tear my hair out when we stopped to make camp for the final time on our journey. We would be arriving in the camp by mid-day the next day, but it was still too far for my liking, Messengers had been sent ahead to tell of our arrival, and I almost volunteered for the task, but sharp looks from Elrohir and Éowyn had stopped me from taking off as if a Black Rider was behind me.

As night fell over the camp, I was sitting at one of the fire, staring moodily into the flames. I was running my fingers through my hair, thinking of Éomer. I had been coaching myself to make sure that I retained every modicum of dignity and grace that I could once I was in his presence. I knew I would shed a few tears of joy, but I was already steeling myself against the onslaught that I knew that would come.

But my silence and solitude was interrupted as I felt someone sit on the log beside me. I glanced to find Elrohir looking into the flames as well. I gave him a little nod to acknowledge his presence, but otherwise said nothing. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. We sat in silence for a while, but then I heard him whispering softly in Sindarin to himself. It almost sounded like a song or a poem, for the words were beautiful.

"_I laiss i-ferin thuiar I 'wilith lim echui aur. I mrethil peliar duiw laiss Af filig linnol der' ennas. Vi Ithilien, dôr lenthir lind. Gorain nesta velethril nín,_ [The leaves of the beeches breathe, The sparkling air of day's awakening. The birches spread the buds of leaves, For the small singing birds to linger there. In Ithilien, land of the tuneful waterfalls Wandering-together heals my beloved.]" Elrohir sang with a little voice, as if he were afraid that someone would overhear him.

But his voice was pure and beautiful, and it distracted me from my own restlessness for a moment.

"That is beautiful," I said, my voice a reverent whisper.

Elrohir seemed startled, though not outwardly, but in his eyes like with the other elf I knew, and turned to look at me.

"Is it one of your own compositions?" I asked when he did not say anything in return.

"Yes. I have had much to think about while in this place," Elrohir said, looking around to the trees.

I smiled. He was different than Legolas in his appearance, but his appreciation for beauty and nature was the same.

"It is about-"

"Ithilien and her trees, I know," I said, finishing for him.

I did not want him to ruin the beauty and magic of the song with an explanation or translation. Elrohir looked at me confused. I gave him a smile, one that I had learned to master from my dear friend.

"I am versed in Sindarin, though not nearly as well as I'd like to be," I said with a little chuckle.

Elrohir's comprehension spread across his face and he merely gave me a nod.

"_It helps when you are surrounded by the language,_" Elrohir said softly, speaking in his native tongue.

I nodded. "_As I have learned with Rohirric_," I countered in the same vein.

I chuckled as I remembered my time in Edoras. While many people of the capital spoke Westron, there were some who only spoke in Rohirric. I knew enough upon my first arrival to get by, but soon my skills improved with more and more exposure.

"_Legolas plans to start a i ngebil here_," Elrohir went on, still looking around.

My brow furrowed. "A what?" I asked, unfamiliar with the word.

Elrohir laughed a little. "A colony, a town. There are those of our kind who feel that our work here is not yet complete, that there are wounds that need healing by our hands. He wishes, and Estel will grant it, to start a place where the Elves who do not wish to depart for Valinor may stay," Elrohir said.

I repeated the new word softly to myself, but thought over what Elrohir had said. Legolas's wife was in Valinor; he had told me this many times. But I would have thought that he would have liked to join her as soon as he was able to. Perhaps I would ask him of the matter when I saw him.

The thought brought me back to my old frustration of not being with Éomer, and I sighed. I brought my knees up to my chest and leaned forward to hug them, staring into the flames again with a dark expression.

"He spoke of you often, you know. They both did," Elrohir said.

I looked to him, my eyes showing my curiosity for his meaning.

"Éomer often spoke of you when we told stories of our lives before this war. He spoke of the days and nights you would spend together when you lived with his family at Meduseld. He wore this peculiar smile when he did, and I often saw the same expression on his face when he was lost in thought on our journey," Elrohir explained.

I smiled brightly, this news bringing warmth to my heart.

"Legolas spoke to me of your appearance. He said that I would recognize you almost as soon as I saw you, for you resemble another that we were both familiar with," Elrohir said, this time with a heavy sigh.

My smile faded a little, the touch of sadness to his voice not lost on me.

"He may or may not have told you this, my lady, but you share striking similarities to Alassiel, Legolas's wife," he said when I did not speak.

The news was a surprise to me, but I had it well. I looked back to the flames to think. This was something else I would have to discuss with Legolas when I saw him. But my overwhelming curiosity about the woman that meant so much to my dear friend would not stay contained.

"How did you know her?" I asked softly.

"Alassiel was born and raised in Imladris, my home. When the days began to be too dark for her liking, she traveled to Lothlorien with myself and my brother, and there she met Legolas. His father was never quite as accepting of others as his youngest son, but Legolas often traveled to the Golden Wood to be with a few of his friends, some of the wardens. They met there and were nearly inseparable since," Elrohir said, recalling the memories of a lost age with a fond smile.

I nodded and was silent. It seemed a little wrong to ask these things, but I knew that the subject of his wife was a painful one, and I did not wish to bring Legolas any further sorrow. These days were not for dwelling on past hurts, but for living in the light of a new and more hopeful age. Elrohir allowed my silence as only an Elf could. Any mortal would have had the compulsion to fill the air with mindless talk, but Elves had a patience from a millennia of experience.

But, after a long moment, Elrohir stood. "It is late, my lady. And we will be departing with the sun so to arrive in a timely manner," he said, looking down on me with a little smile.

I nodded and stood. I brushed some dirt from the folds of my dress and allowed him to escort me to the tent Éowyn and I shared. But, before he departed, I stopped him.

"I think we have known each other long enough for you to call me by my given name," I said with a little pleasant sigh.

Elrohir's handsome face stretched into a grin. "Good-night, Braedia," he said with a little bow.

"Good-night, Elrohir. And thank you for indulging my curiosity," I said.

He bowed a little and then we parted ways. Yes, I liked Elrohir very much.

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><p>The next morning, the entire camp was packed and moving before the sun had fully crested the horizon. Elrohir led the way through the trees, his elven eyesight lending itself to the task of navigator. I was sitting in my saddle, yawning a little every now and again. Despite retiring late, I had found it difficult to sleep. I was too anxious and restless to find enough peace.<p>

When I had been roused, I was dressed in the riding gown that Éowyn and I had had picked as the proper frock for greeting the army. It was a nice shade of green, a color akin to peat moss, and was made of a silk-linen blend. The sleeves went to my wrists, but were tight to my arms instead of having the great cuffs. The bodice was simple, but the neckline came up and laid flat against my neck with a little collar. The skirt gave me enough volume to ride astride, like all of my other dresses.

But there was a slit in the side that suggested that this was truly a dress intended for side-saddle. The back of the dress, the part that would have been on display if I was riding like a lady, was intricately designed with little darts in the fabric to give it texture and dimension, as well as embroidery around the darts to but those elements more into focus. However, as I was riding astride, the cascading effect was nearly lost. Éowyn had tried once again to get me to ride like she did, but I was adamant.

As the company moved and the sunlight grew brighter, I began to see the signs of Sauron's work in this part of the world. There were many trees that looked to be blackened from fire, and many others that were carved deep with ancient symbols of malice. I gave and involuntary shudder as we passed through the ruins of a small homestead. The house had been burned, and the small fields looked like they would never grow food again. I was glad when Elrohir sped the company to a soft canter until we had all passed by the site.

Soon after, we started to hear the sounds of the camp. I knew that the army had been large, so the Cormallen would have been the perfect place to camp. It was a wide open field, surrounded by a line of trees. There was a small house, an outpost for scouts that sat on top of a small hill, which allowed those inside to look out across the expanse. I had tried to find it, but I knew that it was only able to be spotted from a distance, and it had been too dark when we would have been far enough away to see it. Now that we were closer, the outpost was hidden by the tall branches.

But at last, we broke through the line of trees and into the wide fields. I gasped softly as I saw the field filled with tents. There was a clear path to the center of the encampment, but it seemed that all of the soldiers were mingled together. I saw that a soldier from Gondor sat with two of the Rohirrim, and a Swan Knight of Dol Amroth was approaching with stew from a fire. They all gave us a mighty cheer as they saw us approach. The cry followed us through the encampment, all the way to the center.

Our band gathered in the main square, and I found my view of the commanders blocked slightly, as Éowyn and I were forced behind some of the ranking officers.

"Hail, King Elessar, Éomer King, Prince Imrahil," Elrohir called out.

"My friend, I am glad to see you have returned," Aragorn said brightly.

I tried to peak around the bodies, even standing in my stirrups slightly. Éomer was here, but I could not see him. I huffed a silent sigh, resigning myself to wait.

"Come, friends. You are most welcome here. You may set up your camps wherever you choose," Aragorn said, his voice sounding so happy.

The soldiers muttered their acceptance of the orders and dispersed, allowing Éowyn and I to come forward. I looked at the line of commanders, and my heart nearly stopped when my eyes landed on Éomer. Everything else fell away, not even the greetings Aragorn was giving myself and Éowyn. I nodded vaguely, but my breath seemed caught in my throat, so no words would or could come out. Éomer was looking right at me. I could hear my heartbeats in my ears, drowning out all other sound.

He was beautiful, even dressed in his battle armor. A few locks of his hair had been pulled back, but he looked a little windblown, as if he had just gotten back from a ride. I found myself unable to move, for fear that I would somehow embarrass myself. He, however, stepped forward to be at my side.

"May I?" he asked.

Oh, it was glorious to hear his voice again. I nearly burst into tears at the sound, but I kept my composure. I would have normally given him some smart remark about my being able to dismount my own horse, thank you very much, but I just wanted to feel his touch again. I nodded a little, and he reached up to take me by the waist. I gently slid from the saddle, and I felt his strength as he helped me. He barely seemed to put any effort forward, and my feet landed softly.

I looked up at him, his face shining in a bright smile. His hands were warm on my waist, and I could feel the blush in my cheeks.

"How are you, _mín wifrnyne_ [my love]?" he breathed, so soft that I barely heard him.

But my heart soared as I heard the Rohirric endearment. "Wonderful," I said, that being the only word that could come to my mind to describe my feelings.

My heart became so overwhelmed with feelings of joy that tears started to leak from my eyes as I laughed. Éomer's brow furrowed and his hands went to my cheeks and his thumbs wiped away the tears. His hands, his rough hands from years of fighting, felt like the most luxurious fabric.

Then, despite all of my preparation, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I leaped at Éomer, latching myself around his neck. He seemed startled for a moment, but then returned my embrace as fiercely as I was giving it. His arms wrapped around my ribs, holding me a little off of the ground. I kept saying his name, crying and laughing at the same time. It felt so right to be in his arms. His omnipresent scent surrounded me, and I felt him press his face into my hair and breathe deeply. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, unwilling to part from him. His hands slid up my sides and down my arms. He gently detached me from his neck, and I was confused as I came back down to the ground. But I looked at him, and he held my hands.

"We will have a proper reunion later," he whispered with a sly wink.

I giggled and reached up, brushing away the remaining tears from my face. The world was starting to come back, and I noticed that everyone had sort of moved off. I gave Éomer a questioning look.

"Aragorn has prepared a meal for you and your company," Éomer explained.

I nodded and Éomer looped one of my hands through his elbow. I blushed, but allowed him to lead me away toward the command tent. I was still glowing with happiness from his mere presence. I wanted to lean into him, just to have the feeling of his touch, but I had to suffice with just his hand resting on top of mine that he had looped through his arm.

When we entered the command tent, I heard my name. I looked at saw that Legolas was approaching me. I had nearly forgotten about him in all the excitement of being back with Éomer. He approached and we gave each other the traditional Elven greeting. But then he gave a tight smile and looked to Éomer in askance. Éomer laughed and rolled his eyes a little before detaching my arm from his.

I was confused for a moment, but then Legolas swept me into a tight embrace. I laughed with him, though a little shocked at this form of expression. He set me back down, but kept his hands on my shoulders, as if inspecting me.

"Are you still injured, Braedia?" Legolas asked, a little sternly.

I blushed a little and looked away. There was some stiffness in my legs, but it wasn't the pain I had experienced a week or so ago.

"Not so much that I couldn't come to see you," I said, with a little smile.

My hand found Éomer's at his side and I gave it a little squeeze, just so he knew that I meant him most of all.

We all turned as the supper was laid out on the low table. We all sat on cushions on the ground, eating and talking. I spent most of the meal in silence, just listening to everything that everyone was saying. Merry and Pippin were talking animatedly with Éowyn about the battle, Gimli interrupting every now and again with some correction or addition. Aragorn was sitting serenely at the head of the table, just looking out over everything with a satisfied smile. I was sitting next to Éomer, subtly leaning my body into him so we were touching. Now that we were together again, I just felt the overwhelming urge to have physical contact with him at all times.

As the meal was drawing to a close, Éomer slipped his hand into mine under the table and gave me a smile.

"My legs grow restless. Would you care to accompany me for a walk?" Éomer asked, leaning over to whisper in my ear.

His hushed tone and proximity sent a shiver up my spine that I was barely able to contain. He leaned away and I gave him a pleasant smile.

"Of course, _diórling_ [darling]," I said.

Éomer stood and helped me to my feet. We made the proper excuses before slipping from the tent.

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><p><strong>AN: So I won't keep you waiting for long. But these are a few responses. **

**Lystan: I love that saying! HAHAHA**

**Guest: I really wish that everyone would at least leave me a name for me to use to respond to them with even if they don't want to sign in...**

**Abi: Yes, that's why I want to do a story about Braedia's past with Boromir just to get all of this stuff out.**

**LightsCDark: Yes, a little more tension in this chapter, but it will be resolved soon.**

**deepofnight: Eomer's too smart to be drawn in, even if Lothi does get clever.**


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N: So this is it. This is the final chapter. It's been a long journey, and I'm glad that everyone decided to take it with me. If you had told me on February 23rd, the first day I posted a chapter, that I was going to get over 30,000 hits and over 300 reviews, I would have laughed hysterically, because I didn't think it was possible. Thank you, all of you, for making this experience so amazing.**

**Here are the last five reviews responses.**

**Joushou: Nah, I'm going to let everything settle for a little while. Everyone deserves a little peace after everything. However, all bets are off when the sequel comes.**

**Zoe: I'm glad that I can bring some little bit of joy to your life. I hope this chapter is worth it. This is, by far, the longest chapter of the story, at over 6,000 words.**

**Bluebonnet: Thank you very much. I always do my little happy dance whenever someone compliments Braedia. It lets me know that I'm doing my job right.**

**Willow: I almost had her go but then I just realized that Braedia needs a moment with Eomer by herself without fear. And the email with my comments should be coming your way soon.**

**So that's all she wrote. I may do another review response chapter (and maybe a little sneak peak into the next story) after all the reviews stop bombarding my inbox. Once again, thanks to my amazing beta, Certh. She lights a fire under my bum, which is something that I genuinely need sometimes. **

**But, without further ado, here is the final chapter of "Even This Darkness Must Pass". **

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><p>Éomer and I exited the command tent, my arm looped through his once again. We walked through the rows of tents, not speaking. I was just as content in his silence as when he spoke. Though, our quiet was not necessarily of complete choice. There were ears all around us, and we still had to maintain some form of public appearance. It was one thing for the king to escort his sister's lady-in-waiting through a camp of soldiers without a chaperone. It was another thing entirely for him to whisper endearments into her ear and speak of his undying love for all to hear. That declaration would have to wait. However, as we passed many of Éomer's men, a call went up.<p>

"Hail, Éomer King!" they would shout.

Éomer accepted the praise with grace, and I couldn't help but to smile proudly at him. He was every bit the king that he should have been. But then, about halfway through the camp, another cheer rang out.

"Hail, Lady Braedia! Defender of Kings!" a man shouted.

I blushed profusely, and I almost made to correct the man. A sharp, but amused, look from Éomer stopped me.

We made it to the edge of the camp and we found our way to the little creek along the edge of the field. Éomer and I sat down on one of the large flat rocks along the bank. I slipped my feet from my boots and pulled my skirt up a little, allowing my feet to rest in the cool water. Éomer chuckled and I looked at him curiously.

"You are dressed like my queen, yet you still insist on wearing your old riding boots," Éomer pointed out.

His choice of words was not lost on me but I still smiled.

"Old habits are hard to break," I said pleasantly.

Éomer chuckled again and leaned over. He gently took my chin in his finger and tilted my face to look at him.

"You look like a vision, Braedia," Éomer said, his voice dropping to the husky growl that always made my skin turn to goose flesh.

I smiled a little bashfully, not used to this direct praise.

"When we return to Minas Tirith, and to Edoras, I shall see to it that you are never dressed in anything less than velvets and jewels," Éomer said, his tone all sincerity, but the mischievous sparkle in his golden eyes giving away his jest.

"Your will is my command, my lord," I said, using a slightly overly formal tone.

Éomer laughed most heartily. He put his forehead to mine.

"My will, indeed," Éomer breathed.

He lowered his lips to mine and I nearly stopped breathing. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him, despite how often I had fallen back on the memories while he was away. But this reminder nearly sent me to the halls of my fathers. Before I could stop myself, I threw my arms around his neck, unintentionally dropping my skirt into the water. But Éomer wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me out of the water and into his lap.

His lips were soft and thorough, though there was a clear insistence that I yield to them. I was more than happy to allow his mouth to claim mine. The feelings in my belly were enough to bring tears to my eyes. I was overwhelmingly happy, just at the feeling of his strong arms holding me close, and the touch of his tongue on my lower lips, gently asking permission to enter. I granted it most eagerly, and I was rewarded with the taste of him in my mouth. I moaned softly and tried to press myself against him further.

We pulled away and just looked at each other, panting slightly. He gave me another brief kiss and then pulled me down to rest my head against his shoulder. I closed my eyes and smiled, feeling that if I were to die at that moment, I would be the happiest woman in the world.

"Braedia, I have so much to share with you, so much I wish to tell you," Éomer whispered.

I hummed happily. "Please, Éomer, it can wait," I said, not wanting to ruin this blissful silence with talk.

Éomer made me sit up and looked at him. I gave him a questioning look, but he was smiling again.

"For all of your insistence before, now you do not wish to hear my words," Éomer said, sounding like he was scolding me slightly.

I blushed and looked away, a little embarrassed. But he put his palm to my cheek and made me look at him again. His arm was still around my waist, and his closeness was not lost on me. I leaned into his touch against my face, smiling contentedly.

"Braedia, I've known you for many years now, and I know that it may not have seemed like it at times, but I care very deeply about you," Éomer said, speaking slowly.

I let him talk, knowing that he needed to say this without me interrupting or pushing him. He sighed and looked away.

"I was a fool-hardy youth; some would even go so far to say I was reckless and cavalier. But I have changed greatly since those days, and many of those changes were thanks in no small way to your presence in my life," Éomer said, looking back to me with conviction in his eyes.

I smiled, but did not speak. I knew he wasn't done yet. His thumb gently rubbed my cheek and he leaned up to give me another brief but tender kiss. He moved his hand to cup my neck and he put his forehead to mine.

"You know that I am a man of action and not of words, Braedia. I did not wish to speak the words I knew that you so desperately wanted to hear for fear of disappointing you. I did not wish to make vows that I could not keep," he said, closing his eyes and speaking so softly that I could barely hear him.

It was my turn to give him a reassuring kiss. Éomer looked at me, this time the proud and sure glint I was so used to seeing back.

"You have been such a strong force in my life, Braedia. You make me want to be better for you, to do better in your name. You give me something to fight for. I found that, when you were dying after the Battle of the Pelennor Fields, I could hardly stand to be away from your bedside, for fear that you would depart this world. To be separated from you was like a physical ache in my heart, as if you had carved out a place there and the removal of it left me lacking somehow."

Éomer kissed me again, this time pressing his lips to mine with a little more force. I could sense everything that he wasn't saying in his actions, and I knew that this would be hard for him. I had heard him say it once, but I needed to hear it again when he was under no obligation to say one thing or another. He pulled away and looked at me for a long moment. He gently rang his fingers through my loose curls. I smiled at the sensation and reached up to gently brush a lock of his hair that had fallen out of place away.

"Braedia, I have never felt like this about any woman ever before. There are so many uncertain things around us, even now that Sauron has been defeated. But there is one thing that I know for certain and it is this."

Éomer stopped and gave me another steady gaze. I was still silent, letting him gather his thoughts. Éomer took a deep breath. He pulled a hand away from me and dug beneath his tunic for a moment. Then he withdrew something. It was a thin gold chain with a small pendant attached. He pulled the chain from around his neck and held it out to me. The pendant was circular with the figure of a galloping horse centered inside the outer rim of gold. The horse had a tiny emerald for an eye. It was marvelously detailed and I could tell from the care that had been put into its cleaning and maintenance that Éomer must have cared deeply about it.

"I know that I love you and I want to spend every waking moment with you at my side for the rest of my life," he said finally.

I looked to the stars, closing my eyes. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Valar for sending this man to me. I looked back to Éomer and now he was looking at me, as if waiting. He was vulnerable, and he knew it. He knew what it meant to admit such a thing, and a small part of me wanted to tease him. But the tender expression on his face kept me from exploiting him. I leaned in and gave him a warm kiss. I put my hands to his cheeks and pulled away.

"Éomer, my heart has longed for this day for some time. I was content enough just to feel your touch, to know your warmth. But to have you make such a declaration means so much more than any worldly gift," I said, smiling brightly.

Éomer reached up and put the chain around my neck. He pulled my hair through and the necklace settled over my heart. I could still feel the warmth from his skin in the metal. Éomer touched the pendant as it sat on my chest, a far-off look in his eyes.

"This was my grandmother's necklace. My grandfather gave it to her as a betrothal gift. She then gave it to my father to give to my mother as her betrothal gift. Before she passed on, she gave it to me so that I may give it to the woman I chose to marry," Éomer said, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

I looked down at his hand, gently touching the pendant. He put his finger under my chin and brought my eyes back up to meet his.

"I would not give this away lightly, Braedia," he said, very seriously.

I smiled, and sighed a little, my happiness unable to be contained.

"I accept with every fiber of my being, Éomer. Nothing would make me happier than to become your wife," I said.

Éomer smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen and he gathered me up in the full strength of his embrace, granting me another beautiful kiss. I relished in the warmth of the emotions, in the strength of his love. Every dark doubt that I ever had in regards to his feelings toward me was washed away at the touch of his lips to mine. Nothing in the world matter, because I knew that he loved me, and that I loved him. He pulled away, and touched his forehead to mine.

"I love you, Braedia, so much," Éomer said, the conviction in his voice making my heart soar.

"And I love you, Éomer. Now and always," I said, touching his face again.

We shared another kiss before I settled back into his cradling embrace. We stayed like that for a long moment. The night creatures were gently singing their songs. The fireflies were starting to emerge, readying themselves for the summer months. The creek next to us merrily murmured along, a fresh undertone to the sound of the world around us. The breeze swept through the trees, and they sighed. Everything was relaxed and happy. I could have fallen asleep to the sounds of nature around me, and the steady rhythm of Éomer's heart beneath my hand. I gently toyed with the pendant around my neck, enjoying the feeling of its weight on my chest.

Éomer sighed a little, and I could tell that something had changed. I looked up to him, a little questioning gaze on my face. His face had fallen a little, and it made me a little nervous.

"Braedia, you know that I love you, but would you think ill of me if I requested that we keep this betrothal private for a small while?" Éomer asked, hesitant now.

I looked away a little to consider his words. He misread my expression of thoughtfulness as doubt.

"It is not that I am second guessing my decision. I do wish to marry you, but I must obtain the permission of my council due to the circumstances surrounding us," Éomer said, picking every word with care.

Ah, yes. There was the politics of this whole situation. It was almost unnerving how easily I could forget that he was king, and not just a man that I loved with every possible ounce of my being.

"Of course, _m__í__n diórling_ [my darling]," I answered quickly, closing my eyes a little.

The subject of politics brought to the forefront the memories of Lothíriel and all of the vows she had made in regards to Éomer. I was quick to wipe the pained expression from my face, but the moment was not lost on Éomer. He put a hand to my cheek and brought my eyes to his, a very concerned expression now written across his countenance. I sighed heavily.

"I do not suppose that Prince Imrahil has spoken to you of his daughter, Lothíriel," I said, trying to find a way to ease into this.

Éomer went from concerned to confused very quickly.

"Yes, he has spoken of her. He has sung nothing but her praises. Elphir has also spoken kindly of her," Éomer said, the confusion on his face echoing in his words.

I sighed again. Of course they would speak well of her.

"Lothíriel and I…have had our…differences in the past. She and I are…well, it is not to say enemies, but certainly not dear friends," I said, finding myself unable to speak with the concise and articulate nature that I tried to strive for.

"Does this have to do with her previous betrothal to Boromir?" Éomer asked.

I heard the slightly patronizing tone to his voice and looked at him sharply. How did he know of that?

"Elphir has told me quite a bit of your feud. While I get the impression that much of your battle was due to the youth that plagued you both, I do not see how this is relevant to our situation," Éomer said, sounding a little amused.

I sighed again, this time a little more sharply than I would have liked.

"We were not so young. And I only mention her because she has expressed to me on numerous occasions that her father intends to make a formal proposal of marriage on her behalf," I snapped, my temper tested by her mere mention.

Éomer looked at me, a little surprised at my sudden outburst. I looked away, blushing with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Éomer. I did not mean to be so harsh with you," I muttered quickly.

Éomer chuckled a little and made me look at him again. He was wearing an amused expression and it confused me a little. My brow furrowed and Éomer leaned in to give me a soft kiss. I accepted it, but was still very confused on how he was getting any amusement out of my clear anguish.

"Your belief that I would choose to take anyone that isn't you for my wife is endearing and a touch insulting. Do you doubt my feelings for you already?" Éomer said, clearly teasing me.

I gave him an exasperated look. "It is not that I doubt your feelings. My fear comes from her absolute resolve to turn your heart away from me," I said, mumbling a bit in embarrassment.

To think these things was one circumstance. To say them aloud to Éomer was another entirely. I felt a little childish, as if I were claiming that Lothíriel was some monster under my bed that would come out and terrorize me just for fun. Éomer pulled my lips to his again. All of my fears and doubts were momentarily washed away in that moment. My only coherent thought was to wonder if he knew just the effect his kisses had on my body and mind. As I pulled away, the grin on his face told me that he did and he was using it to his advantage.

"If a time comes that Imrahil does propose an alliance between myself and his house, and I will tell him what I am telling you now: while I am sure that one day his lovely daughter will make a fine housewife to some lucky man, I am already spoken for. And if he is to ask who has me under such obligation, I will tell him that my heart is, and forever shall be, held by a beautiful woman with mysterious grey-green eyes," Éomer said, stroking my cheek with a little smile.

I smiled back, feeling the comfort of his words settling into my chest, right under the spot where his pendant fell. I decided that I could play a little game with him now.

"Do I know of this woman?" I asked, sounding honestly curious.

Éomer seemed startled for a moment, but then recovered easily. "I believe so. She is from Gondor, from the city of your birth, as it so happens. She was raised alongside of the Steward's sons, falling in love with the eldest one if I remember correctly," Éomer said, sounding a little thoughtful.

I chuckled, but continued playing the game.

"Well, I must have met her somewhere. What else can you tell me about her?" I asked, running my fingers through Éomer's soft hair.

"I first met her in the Wilds. Despite her looking something akin to a Wildman, she was extraordinarily beautiful. Her appearance only improved upon bathing and a change of clean clothes," Éomer said, turning a little conversational now.

I nodded, putting a mock thoughtful expression on my face. "When did you first know that you loved her?" I asked.

Éomer smiled at me, this time a little knowing. He barely paused in his speech before answering.

"On the day of my banishment, when she nearly murdered a man, just to see me one last time," Éomer said with deep conviction.

I gasped as he stole my breath. He loved me, even then? It only made that moment when I rejected his love even more painful. I looked away, feeling guilty all over again. I caught Éomer's confused look out of the corner of my eye.

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked softly.

I closed my eyes. "Because I broke your heart that day," I admitted softly.

Éomer made me look at him again. He was smiling tenderly now, which only made me a little confused.

"You may have hurt me a little, but you did not break my heart. There is very little you could ever do to stop me from loving you, now that I've made up my mind," Éomer said, turning serious again.

"When did you make up your mind?" I asked in a small voice, reluctant to admit to my own curiosity.

Éomer took a moment to look away toward the tree line, a thoughtful expression making its way onto his countenance. I stayed silent, letting him think. But he looked away so long that I was tempted to look in the same direction, to see what had caught his eye. But before I could, he looked back to me.

"I made up my mind that night at Dunharrow," he said firmly, with absolute assuredness.

I gaped a little at him. "If you had decided then, why could you not tell me? If you had said that you loved me then I would have gone back to Edoras, and would be waiting for you even now, safe and unharmed," I said, sounding half-confused, half-irritated.

Éomer gave me another knowing smile, but this time I could not place the cause.

"Well, I would have at least felt guilty about riding into battle," I admitted, crumbling under his look.

Éomer laughed a little bit at my discomfort but then he nuzzled his face into my neck.

"If it matters, I made up my mind after you had already walked away. The thought that you were most assuredly going to ride was almost unbearable to me. It made me realize that I did not want to live in a world that you did not also inhabit," he whispered into my ear, as if this were his greatest secret.

I smiled slightly, and hummed my contentment.

"But then you saved my life. And you stood over my uncle as he lay dying, defending him against further harm," Éomer said, planting little kisses along my neck.

I giggled as his beard and mustache tickled the sensitive skin. Éomer wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me to him tightly.

"You showed me that you are quite capable of handling yourself when push comes to shove," Éomer said, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

"So you will not fear for my life?" I asked, an innocent expression on my face.

"Of course I will always fear for your life. Is that not what I am supposed to do as your husband?" Éomer asked, as if I were missing something very obvious.

I smiled brightly at the thought of Éomer being my husband. I giggled, unable to control myself. Éomer laughed at my giggle, and his laugh caused me to laugh more. We dissolved into fits of laughter, unable to control our mirth. I felt lighter than air in that moment, and only Éomer's strong arms were holding me to the ground. As our laughter died, I snuggled into Éomer's chest again, closing my eyes. I never wanted to move from that spot. Éomer rested his cheek on the top of my head, but not before giving me a little kiss. I sighed, content at last. But a nagging feeling came back to my mind.

"So you will take care when we return to Minas Tirith? Lothíriel can be quite convincing when she truly wants to be," I said, sitting up slightly.

Éomer sighed and gave me an exasperated look. "If it makes you happy, I vow that, even if she were to throw herself at me completely and utterly naked, I would not dare to even look upon her, for it would betray my solemn promise of marriage to you," Éomer said.

He was using much false pomp, and I gave him a sharp look.

"And if she does actually throw herself at you in such a state of undress?" I asked, thinking that such an act would not necessarily be below Lothíriel, based on how badly she seemed to want to be queen.

"Then I will have her arrested, for assaulting a king, and for being a harlot," Éomer said, now turning completely serious.

A small grin came to me. The thought of Lothíriel enduring a harlot's punishment certainly had its appeal, and I could tell that Éomer saw the glint of mischief in my eyes. He laughed and nuzzled my neck again.

"I knew I was correct in not wishing your wrath on none by my worst enemies," Éomer said, almost to himself.

I laughed a little at his jest. But our moment was interrupted as a sound rang out over the fields. Éomer and I both turned our heads toward it, and I felt my blood turn cold. Childhood fears that I thought I had long since pushed aside, came back, paralyzing me. The sound came again, and this time Éomer let out a little chuckle. I clutched at my stomach, trying to stop my body from shaking with fright. Éomer looked to me, and for a moment his face was amused. But his amusement vanished in an instant as he saw how clearly terrified I was. He held me tightly, trying to calm me with kisses to my temple. They worked, and I was able to get my heart to stop pounding. Éomer looked at me, concern on his face.

"You still remember your childhood fear of the stallion," he muttered.

I nodded, remembering all of the fear that accompanied the sounds of a stallion when he had caught the scent of a mare in heat.

"Well, fear not, my lady. It is only Firefoot," Éomer said calmly.

I looked at him, a little confused. How did he know that it was his horse?

"I know all of the sounds that Firefoot makes, even those that only rarely occur. He and I have been together for many years," Éomer explained.

I nodded vaguely, still trying to regain some moisture in my dry mouth. Éomer moved me from his lap, and helped me to stand.

"Shall we go see what mischief he has been up to?" Éomer asked, looping my arm through his.

I nodded and we walked off toward the paddock where the horses were being kept. There was a little bit of a commotion going on near one of the entrances. We were about to approach when Éomer stopped me. He gave me a little kiss, but then tucked his necklace beneath my dress. I gave him an appreciative smile and then we walked on.

As we approached, I noticed that Círdor was among the group, as well as some of the other grooms. They had yet to notice our approach, which allowed me to hear some of their conversation. From what I gathered, Círdor was being scolded for putting Narmírë into the paddock with the horses. My brow furrowed with concern, but then we were within sight of the group, and they all turned toward us, standing a little straighter in the presence of Éomer.

"Do you care to explain what is going on?" he asked, conversationally.

His groom stepped forward, giving Círdor a glare as he passed. The boy shrank a little.

"My lord, this boy here, he put a mare in the paddock with the war horses. She was in heat," the groom said.

"Círdor, is this true?" I asked softly, stepping up to put my hand on his arm.

"Yes, my lady. I didn't know that Narmírë was in heat," Círdor said, and I could almost hear the tears in his voice.

He wasn't looking at me, and the shadows from his hair hid his eyes from me. I looked to Éomer.

"He would have had no way of knowing. This would be very early for Narmírë, and you know that," I said softly.

Éomer nodded, deep in thought.

"And it was Firefoot, was it not?" Éomer asked suddenly.

"Yes, my lord. Nearly killed Brego and Arod over her," the groom said, still glaring at Círdor.

"If the lord's horse nearly killed the other males for the rights to the female, it is not Círdor's fault," I said sharply to the groom.

He looked about ready to say something sharp back, but Éomer stopped him.

"It is very lucky that it was Firefoot. Derngar would have had my head if any but Firefoot mounted Narmírë," Éomer said with a little chuckle.

Everyone, including myself, stared at Éomer, flabbergasted. Derngar was the royal breeder of Rohan, and the stable master at Edoras. It was most surprising to me why he would have taken special interest in Narmírë. Éomer gave me a little knowing smile.

"I've always tried to be honest with you, Braedia, but I did have to lie to you when I gave Narmírë to you all those years ago. She was not the horse of a widow. She was bred specifically by the stable for Éowyn, but Narmírë had too much spirit for my sister's liking," Éomer said.

I gasped a little and looked out into the pasture for my horse. I could not see her very well, but there was a gleam of red hide somewhere on the far end that let me find her.

"Her dam was one of the offspring of my grandfather, Thengel's, horse. Which makes her at least in part one of the Mearas," Éomer said when I still did not understand the significance of his words.

At this revelation, I nearly fell over. It was widely known that the Mearas would only let those of royal blood, and Mithrandir, mount them. To have it revealed to me that my sweet Narmírë was one of them was almost too much to handle.

"Because the bloodline has been diluted slightly over time, Derngar wanted to save her for one of purer Mearas bloodline, like Firefoot." Éomer said, smiling brightly at me.

I looked back out over the paddock, and I saw that Narmírë was coming up toward me, shadowed very closely by Firefoot. When she reached the fence, I stroked her nose softly. Everyone seemed to be waiting for my response, but the one I wanted to give Éomer was not entirely appropriate for the mixed company we were in.

"You should have told me at the beginning," I whispered to Éomer.

Éomer chuckled. "Would you have accepted her if I had told you?" he asked slyly.

I looked at Narmírë, and she was giving me an innocent look. She knew exactly what she had been up to, and she was clearly trying to hide it. I sighed and considered Éomer's words. Of course, I would not have accepted such a fine gift. But now that I had ridden into battle with her, and she had saved my life, I could not imagine myself riding any other horse.

"Círdor, have you experience handling a horse when she is with foal?" I asked softly.

"Yes, my lady," Círdor responded quickly.

"Then I trust that you will continue to make Narmírë's well-being of the utmost importance," I said, making sure that I was firm, but kind in my tone.

"Of course, my lady," Círdor said, just as quickly as before.

Éomer dismissed the group, and we waited until they were out of earshot. I turned to Éomer with a smirk on my face.

"You are just too beautiful. If it weren't for the camp full of men behind us, I would sweep you up right now," Éomer said, a proud glint to his eyes.

"We will have to hurry back to Minas Tirith, then," I said with a sly smile.

Éomer smirked at my coy attitude. I took a step closer to him.

"And speaking of Minas Tirith, I have something to give to you," I said softly, tracing a finger over his shirt along the lines of his muscles. I could feel them tremble beneath my touch.

"What would that be?" Éomer asked gruffly.

I looked up at him through my lashes. "You will just have to come to my room and find out," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Woman, you will be the death of me." Éomer said, closing his eyes with frustration.

Surprisingly, his use of "woman" to me was not at all demeaning; I almost enjoyed hearing it. I took a tiny step closer to him, but remained far enough away that the only connection we had was my finger slowly tracing patterns on his chest.

"Better me than some disgusting Orc," I whispered innocently.

"Indeed," Éomer said, his voice rough and dry.

He swallowed hard and looked back down at me. I smiled and saw that his eyes had turned a brilliant shade of gold.

"And they say that men's greatest weakness is their stomach," I said a little ruefully.

Éomer swallowed again, and I could feel his hands clenching and unclenching at his side.

"You know my greatest weakness," Éomer said lowly, his voice a dangerous rumble.

I laughed a little and stood on my tip toe, extending my neck so my lips were inches from his.

"And what would that be, my lord?" I breathed, my breath drying out his already dry lips.

He swallowed, but it seemed as if he had lost his ability to speak.

"You should saddle your stallion before he mounts another mare," I whispered, emphasizing the horse terms suggestively.

I quickly walked off, leaving him standing there, a little stunned. But then I heard his growl, and I looked behind me. He was advancing on me quickly, and there was a mischievous little smile dancing across his face. I squeaked a little and then gathered my skirts, taking off at a run through the open field. I kept looking behind me, laughing as Éomer chased me through the moonlit meadow. We both laughed and ran around, acting like children. But I enjoyed this little moment of time when we were both carefree. Those moments would be rare in the coming months, even years.

Éomer finally caught me by my waist and we were tumbling to the ground. We rolled once or twice before he finally ended up half on top of me. He was kneeling beside me, with my upper body pinned to the ground. We were both panting a little, but I found myself lost in the depths of his golden-green gaze.

"It is very rare that any woman can bring out the worst in me, but still make me want to be better for her," Éomer said thoughtfully.

"Oh? How often has this happened before?" I asked with a little giggle.

Éomer then lowered his lips so there was a hair's breadth between our mouths. It took everything in me not to close the distance. I did not want to give him the satisfaction. But I could not help my slightly heavier breathing.

"You are the first," Éomer breathed, and I felt a shiver run up my spine.

Éomer pulled me closer to him, but moved his face to nuzzle my neck. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to shudder as his lips placed butterfly kisses over my neck. Éomer moved his kisses up the side of my neck and to my jawline. I tilted my head back and arched my back so I was closer to him. Then I felt Éomer pulled away. I looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and saw that he was seriously considering me. I straightened a little and looked at him curiously.

"If I wanted to, I could leave you like this. It would be the proper response to your treatment of me earlier," Éomer whispered.

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. I craned my neck so my lips were enticingly close to his.

"But what kind of a man would you be to leave your lady like this?" I said, my voice a little pleading.

Éomer chuckled, and he closed the distance between our lips by half, but still did not kiss me.

"A cruel one," Éomer breathed.

His breath was hot on my lips and I licked them a little.

"But are you a cruel man?" I asked at the same volume.

"You can tell me tomorrow morning," Éomer said quickly.

He finally closed the distance between our lips, and I felt as if my whole body was coming alive, as if I had been holding my breath, and his kiss was my first breath of fresh air in years. All of my fear, all of my doubt fell away, and I knew, despite everything that had happened and was probably going to happen, that this was where I was meant to be.

Éomer's prophecy had finally come to pass. The darkness of this war was behind us. Yes, there was a long way to go until true and complete peace was found, but I had Éomer by my side, and that was all I needed. He was my heart, my soul, my strength. Éomer had found me when I didn't want to be found. He had been there when no one else was. He was the ray of light that broke through the shadows of my life. I had found my peace, and it was, and forever would be, in Éomer's arms. He pulled away and looked at me with a smile on his face.

"I love you, Braedia," he whispered, as if his words were a prayer that I only I was meant to hear.

"And I love you, Éomer. Now and always," I whispered back, putting as much conviction as I could into my words.

He gently lowered his lips onto mine again, and I sighed as I melted into him. I breathed deeply, his scent mixing with his flavor on my lips. I had found my way home, and it smelled of baking grass, honey, and horses.


	46. Author's Note and Other Things

My dearest readers,

Hello! I know it has been a long time since I last posted on this story, but I've finally got some things to share with you.

But first, I must say once more how thankful I am for all that you guys have given me in the last few months. It has been so inspiring and it means so much to know that my hard work has been read and appreciated. I take a moment to thank all of those that I can later, but this is just a general thanks to everyone, even those who read this story anonymously.

Secondly, I've started a Tumblr for my fanfictions. I am going to post the link on my profile, because FF doesn't like links here, so you can go there and click through. The main thing that I think most of you will be interested in are the alternate chapters! As most people may or may not know, "Even This Darkness Must Pass" went through a heavy revision stage toward the end. Part of this was a HUGE shift in the plot and characterization. But, because you guys are so awesome, I've decided give you the original ending to the story. For better or for worse, you can have it. I'll also be posting pictures and banners that I make (or possibly even you can make if you are so inclined!) there. I'll try to throw up some pictures of Braedia so you can use them to your heart's content. Also, any bonus features (outtakes, deleted scenes, funny little short stories that I come up with, etc) may or may not go up there. I love Tumblr, so it should be a good time. Also, I'm toying with the idea of doing readings of the chapters that I post (sort of like an audiobook, but with fanfiction). I always like listening to stories rather than reading them (mostly because I can't focus to save my life, and it lets me do more than one thing at a time), but I just want to know how you guys feel about that possibilty. If there's enough interest, I might just have to do it.

But, without any further preamble, I'm going to give you some interesting facts about "Even This Darkness Must Pass". Or at least I thought that they were interesting.

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><p><em><strong>Even This Darkness Must Pass Stats:<strong>_

**Word Count (according to Microsoft Word): **116,207

**Word Count (according to Fanfiction): **140,633

**Date Published: **2/23/2012

**Date Last Chapter Published: **7/6/2012

**Number of Hits: **44,475

**Number of Reviews: **384

_**Fun Facts:**_

**Number of Bookmarks for Research pages (Elvish, Old English, etc.): **21

**Number of times 'Braedia' written: **210

**Number of times 'Èomer' written: **913

**Number of times 'Legolas' written: **452

**Number of times 'Éowyn' written**: 545

**Chapter with most reviews: **Chapter 45 (23 reviews), Chapters 42, 39 (17 reviews), Chapters 32, 36 (16 reviews)

**Chapter with least reviews: **Chapter 7 (1 review)

**Longest chapter: **Chapter 45 (6,470 words)

**Shortest chapter: **Chapter 5 (1,357 words according to Word; 1,730 according to Fan Fiction)

_**Roll Call:**_

**Beta Reader:** Certh

**Reviewers (by order of review count): **Willow (38); brandibuckeye (31); Certh (26); rosewriter (24); Lystan (21); Kiiimberly (19); Winged-Violincelle (18); glitterballx (13); TXChloe/Bluebonnet (12); MinNinniach (11); CrocScale (11); deep of night (9); LightsCDark (9); CharlotteCookson (8); Earth Mama (8); Zoe (8); Lady of Sign (7); joushou (7); Abi the Baker's Girl (7); Fantasy Amore (5); Lift the Wings (5); Vbelenger (5); Princess of Hounds (5); Aranel (4); venetiangirl92 (4); Ambray (4); Inotia (3); julieAKAweirdo (3); TheMotherQuill (3); EvaSirico (2); Miss Jay/Geena (2); Yayyou (2); xBecax (2); Ashley Dawn (2); SvenThurston (2); Jag (1); Fireheartninja (1); MDRobin (1); i am ninja (1); Hopefeather (1); Loslanna (1); jaejoog1 (2); Annie (1); UchihaAkia (1); you've been sherlocked (1); Maginatamoon (1); DORK DOG (1); YaoiMonster (1); sharNZ (1); Ashes2Dust18 (1); redrosegirl (1); Zephiriaa (1); shereelouise60 (1); Giddy (1); Ilovebooksforever (1); BlueEyedWolf33 (1); The Mcgabster (1); Helleni (1); Winter1990 (1); Lucyrider17 (1); Tsovy (1); Aenora (1)

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><p><strong>SNEAK PEAK OF "A Light from the Shadow"<strong>

I had wished that these past few weeks could have lasted for an eternity. I had Éomer almost exclusively to myself. There were barely any interruptions, and there had been many secret moments where loving words and soft kisses had been exchanged. But the bliss had to come to an end, and we had to return to the city to see Aragorn claim his rightful throne.

The night before we were to enter the city, camp was made on the Fields of Pelennor. The White City could be seen in the distance, the light of thousands of lamps and torches making it a beacon in the darkness. We could have continued to the city and arrived sometime in the middle of the night, which was what I truly wished for. If we had arrived after dark, most of those that would think to greet us wouldn't be there, including Lothíriel. With the prospect of returning to the city looming over me, the fear for Éomer's loyalty grew in my chest. I knew that it was slightly irrational, but I could not help but to be nervous.

I sat by one of the fires, gently running my fingers through my curls. They were in desperate need of a good cleaning with the fine soaps and oils of the city. I had been doing what I could to keep my hair from knotting and matting, but the best I had been able to do was a soak in the river that had run next to the camp. I was starting to grow frustrated with my disobedient hair when I heard a familiar chuckle from behind me. I turned slightly to see Legolas approaching. I smiled as he sat down next to me.

"I've never seen someone put so much effort into something that frustrates them so completely," Legolas teased me gently.

I gave him a half-hearted glare, which only made him laugh more. He had me turn and he began to work his nimble fingers through my hair, skillfully taming it. We sat in content silence for a while, and I just enjoyed the gentle feelings of his hands through my hair.

"How do you fare, Braedia?" Legolas asked softly, switching to speak in Sindarin.

Elrohir, and in turn his brother Elladan, had been speaking to me solely in the Elvish language to help my skills improve. I had learned originally from my father, but the lessons had been limited, and it would have been wrong to squander the resources of several native speakers in my company. Legolas had been more than happy to comply with my wish to converse in his native tongue. I sighed slightly in response to his inquiry. It was hard to say with certainty how I felt.

"Nervous, and perhaps a little excited," I replied, trying to be as honest as I could.

Legolas made a little noise of agreement, but was clearly waiting for me to continue.

"I have been dreading this meeting of Éomer and Lothíriel for some time, and I am nervous that it will go as I imagine it will: she will flirt with him and he will find her irresistible," I said, putting my fears to words for the first time to anyone save myself.

I wanted to turn as Legolas gave a little chuckle. "I doubt that anything anyone could do to Éomer, excepting some cruel spell, would ever turn Éomer's love from you," he said simply.

I sighed and slumped forward. Legolas fingers were still working on my hair, and I could feel as my change in posture caused him to pull my hair slightly. I sat back up, feeling the chastising look on the back of my head.

"But I'm excited, just to have it be over. And to return to a place with hot water," I said, jerking my head a little to show that I meant a wish for a warm bath.

Legolas laughed heartily as he finished up his braid. I ran my hands along the intricate braids and turned to him with a thankful smile. Legolas was giving me one of his infamous knowing grins.

"Éomer loves you very deeply, Braedia. And I do not need increased awareness of those around me to see this," Legolas said, subtly nodding his head to one side.

I glanced over to the direction he indicated, and I smiled as I saw that Éomer was standing in the shadows on of the tents, but was clearly watching us. I looked back to Legolas.

"I hope he is not jealous of the love I have for you, Braedia," Legolas said, taking my hand and rubbing it gently.

I smiled and allowed the contact. Legolas often spoke of the courtly feelings he had for me, a revelation that had come to him after our brief attempt to discover if our relationship was anything other than one of deep friendship. I knew Legolas to be a pure being, and my trust in him allowed me to believe him.

"If he is, then he is wasting his energy that could be better spent on seeing to matters of more importance," I said.

Legolas and I shared a little laugh before he pulled me to my feet.

"We should retire. Aragorn spoke of leaving before first light," Legolas said.

I rolled my eyes a little. "Always the Ranger, no matter how many jewels one will place upon his brow."

Legolas chuckled, but made no attempts to deny the claims.

* * *

><p><em>And some brief glimpses further into the future…<em>

"What shall we name him?" I asked, looking at the innocent, sleeping face.

Èomer considered for a moment, but I could sense his indecisiveness. This was going to be the future king of Rohan, so the name had to be perfect. He watched the little prince sleep, and a peace settled over him.

"Théodred," Èomer said at last.

I smiled, remembering how I longed to name our heir after the man who should have been king.

"Théodred," I agreed.

Our son, Théodred, moved a little in Èomer's arms. Èomer was surprised, and I could sense his trepidation. But Théodred did not cry. I leaned over and watched as father and son saw each other for the first time. Théodred looked up at his father, his eyes wide and trusting, as if he could sense that this man was the man that talked with him for hours at night and greeted him every morning.

"Hello, my son," Èomer whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I smiled proudly at the pair. Yes, Èomer would be the perfect father.

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><p>I opened my eyes and looked to Berendir. "I need you to promise me something, Berendir. I need to have your word that you will get my child to the safety of her father. I need you to vow that, no matter what happens to me, you will protect her," I said, suddenly very firm and very serious.<p>

Berendir looked taken aback by my sudden fervor, and blinked a few times. "Even at the cost of your own life?" he asked.

"Yes. I need to know that, even if I am to depart this world for the halls of my fathers, my baby will find her way home, and not into the lecherous hands of a mad king," I said, my voice shaking with tears that I was holding back.

Berendir looked into my watering eyes and I saw him swallow. "You have my word, Braedia Rohrien. I will protect your child and deliver her into the hands of one that will see her to safety," Berendir said seriously.

"No. I need you to vow that you will deliver her into no one's hands except to her father. I will not rest until I know that she is safe in his arms," I said, tears starting to flow down my cheeks.

Berendir stood from the table and dropped to his knee before the bed. He took my hands in his and looked up into my eyes. "This is my solemn vow to you Braedia, daughter of Deonvan. I will protect the child with my own life, and I will deliver her only into the hands of her father, and no other. You have my word that she will be safe and will not suffer the fate of so many before her," Berendir said, speaking each word with absolute clarity and conviction.

I smiled through my tears. I took one of my hands from his and gently stroked his silky hair. I leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his hairline.

"Thank you, my friend. My mind will be at peace knowing that my daughter will have such a noble guardian," I said softly.

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><p>We pulled away and Èomer looked at me, all the love in the world trapped in his eyes.<p>

"I love you, Braedia," Èomer whispered.

"I love you, Èomer. Now and always," I said, my voice even softer than his.

He closed his eyes, and I closed mine. I felt the darkness creeping in on me. I listened to Èomer's heart beneath my hands. It was slowing down, and I smiled. He was waiting for me, always the gentleman. I let out one last sigh, and I welcomed the darkness as a long awaited friend.

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><p><em>Eh? Eh? Did that get you excited for "A Light From the Shadow"? Can't wait for more? Then don't forget to check out the Tumblr for the alternate chapters and the goodies I've been posting over there. I'll see you guys in a few weeks when I get ready to start publishing!<em>


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